swinney
Random word list:
Saigon
Garifalia
tear-angry
swinney
Runck
Word chosen: swinney
Definition: an atrophy of the muscles of the shoulder in horses; also, atrophy of any muscle in horses.
Free association word list:
horse
race
greyhound
skinny
couch potato
fat
lazy
television
TiVo
recording
season pass
too many shows
deletion
removal
vaporized
1984
Winston
Big Brother
love
sex
randy
Earl
Joy
pregnant
labor
birth
baby
toddler
child
teenager
adult
elderly
dead
rotting
bones
dust
Word chosen: Big Brother
Writing:
Charlie ran down the narrow alley as he glanced over his shoulder. This was his fatal mistake. If he had been watching his path, he would have noticed the plastic bucket full of stagnant rain water that lie in wait to trip him at the precise moment of his footfall.
As his foot came down into the bucket, it pitched him forward in a most severe and unnatural angle. Charlie flung his hands out to prevent injury, but only succeeded in impaling his left hand on a large rusty nail whose still-sharp point was reaching for the bleary sky that hung over the entire city of London.
Charlie couldn’t risk crying out in pain, or in stopping. Either action would have gotten him caught by Big Brother’s enforcers, The Ministry of Love. He threw himself to his feet as he yanked the nail from his hand. As he ran off into the darkness, he dropped the nail in the middle of the alley in hopes of escaping.
Charlie managed to reach his flat where he felt safe even though the telescreen broadcast his every movement, and some believed, every thought. As he passed in front of the telescreen, he moved in a slow and methodical manner to avoid revealing his racing heart and bleeding hand.
He made his way to the lavatory where he had some privacy away from eyes of the telescreen. Charlie washed and bandaged his hand as best he could under the stinging cold water that gurgled from the tap. As he was returning to his living room to participate in the daily Two Minutes of Hate, he was jolted by a sudden announcement that blared forth from the telescreen in a very nasal woman’s voice.
“If any medical personnel receive a request for treatment of a puncture wound to the hand, report the request to the Ministry of Love immediately. Thank you. Please stand for the Two Minutes of Hat.”
The announcement had been accompanied by a brief video of Charlie sprawling in the alley, but did not show his face. It also showed a close up photo of the nail that had pierced the flesh of his hand.
Charlie managed to make it through the Two Minutes of Hate with the requisite yelling, frothing, and gesturing at the telescreen before the enormity of what he had done overcame him. He had to tell someone about what he had discovered. He had no proof, of course, but his words should be strong enough to cast doubt on the ever present wisdom, guidance, and compassion that Big Brother claimed to have for all citizens of Oceania.
Charlie never had a chance to tell anyone his discovery. He was watched very closely and never had a chance to confirm his information with his prole contact until their scheduled meeting a week later. Unfortunately, lockjaw set in four days after his encounter with the bucket and subsequent chance meeting with the nail. Charlie managed to stay home and hide from the telescreen and his spying neighbor’s kids who would turn him in just for the reward of a new pair of boots that were hard to get a hold of despite what Big Brother said about over production of leather this quarter.
Charlie was awoken in the middle of the night nine days after his run-in with the deadly bucket and nail one-two combination by intense spasms of his back, arms, and legs. They did not let up, and Charlie was completely unable to scream in pain even though he tried. These spasms lasted until dawn when they finally clawed their way to his barely beating heart and put a stop to it.
Charlie’s last thoughts were ones of relief that it was over, and dismay that Big Brother would continue his reign of terror over the citizens of Oceania.
PS: Yes. I’ve read 1984. Twice. The most recent time was a little over a month ago. This is my first stab at fan-fic. It doesn’t come near Orwell’s genius, but if he were still alive, I would hope that he would read this with a smile and not a frown. I thought about making this longer, but the night is running long, and the morning will come sooner than I like. I hope you enjoyed it.
galut
Random word list:
dolomization
galut
muraled
Redgrave
mordanted
Word chosen: galut (AKA: galuth)
Definition: the forced exile of Jews, esp. from countries where they were most persecuted.
Free association word list:
Holocaust
Hitler
SS
Heinrich Himmler
large man
evil man
Nuremberg Trials
execution
Saddam Hussein
hanging
hangman’s knot
noose
wild wild west
cowboys
Indians
teepee
tent
camping
Boy Scouts
wilderness
hiking
boots
shoes
flip-flops
sandals
toes
toenails
fungus
TV commercials
TiVo
Word chosen: wilderness
Writing:
The wilderness spread out under Bright Mane’s wings. He soared above it all looking down for his next meal. The hawk knew that a rabbit, squirrel, or some other tasty morsel awaited him. He swerved to the left and the right looking for the tiniest movement that would give away his prey.
Bright Mane heard the shrill cry of his mate off in the distance, but he ignored her to better focus on the ground far below. His patience paid off. He dove down at an astonishing rate. A silent as a falling raindrop, Bright Mane screamed through the air.
Just before hitting the ground, he pulled out of his dive and flashed his claws. The small rabbit that had twitched from its hiding place beneath the scrub brush was yanked from the ground, and into the sky.
This time the silence of the wild was broken by the pained scream of the rabbit. Bright Mane tightened his claws around the flailing rabbit, and carried it higher into the air. The claws pierced the soft fur of the rabbit, and began to squeeze the life from it. The small clump of fur thrashed one last time before the life fled its terrified body.
Bright Mane soared above the plains and cried to the sky to thank it for allowing him to bring food home to his family. His mate cried back in response to congratulate him for a fine kill. Bright Mane allowed a warm thermal to rise beneath his wings to carry him higher in the sky.
As he wheeled in the direction of his fledglings’ nest, he angled downward slightly to gain speed on his way home. When he arrived, his mate had already awoken the younglings, and they were screaming for their meal. With grace and care, he began to tear chunks from the rabbit’s cooling carcass, and flung them into the nest for his offspring to fight over.
He watched them carefully. The weakest would be thrown from the nest in the passing of three more days to make room for the stronger ones that would carry on his lineage. He felt no remorse, sorrow, or pain for what he was planning on doing.
It was necessary for survival.
Just as the killing of the rabbit had been.
beetleheaded
Random word list:
beetleheaded
marsoon
milliliter
Hartill
overenthusiastically
Word chosen: beetleheaded
Definition: a stupid person; blockhead.
Free association word list:
beetlegeuse (sp?)
movie
Winona Ryder
Michael Keaton
Batman
Christian Bale
American Psycho
staircase
chainsaw
laughter
crazy
Word chosen: crazy
Writing:
The screams in the night drove me from my bed not in terror, fright, or cowardice, but in anger. I couldn’t stand to listen to the screams any more. They were keeping me awake. I knew that I had to put the screaming to a stop, and the only way to do that is to cut off all of their tiny little heads.
They screamed into the night on every full moon as if they were afraid of the pale ghastly orb that passed through the darkness for a few nights every month. It was always on the full moon, and I was tired of it. This was the third night in a row of screaming. I knew that they would quiet down tomorrow night as they had done for the past five months, but I’ve had enough of this.
Not all of them scream to the night sky, and I’m not a butcher. I’m only going to kill the ones that open their cavernous mouths to the pale monocle that orbits our world. I quickly threw on my galoshes to keep my feet dry from the splattering of their juices as I cut off their heads. I also made sure to throw on my rattiest bath robe because I knew that I would have to throw it out to conceal the evidence of my horrific crime. People would understand a single killing, or maybe two, but they would never support the outright slaughter of so many.
I grabbed my weapon, fired it up, and waded into their midst chopping off heads left and right. They didn’t scream as they died. They merely fell silent. One by one, they stopped screaming. They never ran. It was as if they were rooted in place by the mere sight of me. I never stopped laughing at their impotence. I would proclaim that the silence was golden, but the roar of my weapon in the quiet night drowned out any other sounds that I could have possibly heard. I just knew that when I was done, I would have my golden silence again.
Silence.
Nothing.
Peace.
Quiet.
Soothing.
… and that, good officer of the law, is why I am standing in the middle of Old Lady Pinkerston’s lily patch in the middle of the night with a gas-powered weed whacker running at top RPMs while wearing nothing more than galoshes and a bath robe.
PS: Kiara was giving me grief about posting about my rather boring past, so I decided to liven things up. I’m going to post fiction (as above) for this week during my writings. Maybe I’ll continue that through the end of the month. Maybe not. We’ll see what the end of the week brings.
PPS: I figured that while I’m up this “late” I would go ahead and stay up to post for Sunday, and get it out of the way. Now I don’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day.
gnat
Random word list:
obscuration
domboc
gnat
Kies
undergage
Word chosen: gnat
Definition: any of certain small flies, esp. the biting gnats or punkies of the family Ceratopogonidae, the midges of the family Chironomidae, and the black flies of the family Simuliidae.
Free association word list:
flies
annoying
dead
dying
fat
buzzing
freeze
winter
snow
warm weather
odd
thankful
hope it holds
November
Kiernan coming soon
meeting with doula
nice lady
packed for trip
heavy pack
NATO pack
3-day assault pack
MRE
emergency food
good eats?
probably not
survival
camping
dog food
Boy Scouts
Be Prepared
Word chosen: NATO pack
Writing:
A month or two ago, I realized that I needed a bag big enough to carry all of the stuff that we’re going to be taking to the hospital when Kiara goes into labor. I knew that I’d have this bag, my laptop bag, and Kiara to get into the hospital without killing myself. That’s when I decided that I needed a back pack that could handle a large load.
Instead of running to REI to buy an overpriced frame pack, I decided to hit the local Army surplus store. I had in mind to pick up an ALICE pack since I had heard about them, and I knew that they could hold most of what a solider needed for a day or five in the field. If it can help keep a soldier alive, then it can probably carry what I need.
I got to the store to find that ALICE packs are frame backpacks. Ok. Don’t need that for this trip. However, I’ll keep it in mind if I ever do the camping thing. While looking around the store, I came across a NATO pack and a 3-day assault pack. The 3-day assault pack was really, really nice, and could hold TONS of stuff. Unfortunately, it ran $90 for one of them. I decided that Kiara would castrate me if she found out that I had spent that much on a pack.
That left me with the NATO pack for $20, which is the option that I went with. The NATO pack wasn’t quite large enough to hold everything, but it comes close. I have a small bag that holds the rest of the gear that we’re taking with us. Fortunately, that small bag sits perfectly on top of the NATO pack, and one of my bungee cords holds it in place nicely.
We added the last bits of stuff that we need for the trip to the hospital into the bag this afternoon, and cinched all of the flaps and compartments closed. Things are packed up, and we’re ready to go.
Now if we can just keep the weather nice for a few more weeks until we’re at the hospital things will work out nicely.
PS: Not used to posting on the weekends. Hah! Barely made it with a few minutes to spare.
whitrack
Random word list:
khi
Zorn
enjoy
nouveaute
whitrack
Word chosen: whitrack
Definition: a weasel; ermine or stoat. (British dialect)
Free association word list:
ferret
Mischief
Trouble
Loki
Nikita
Palladium
Divinity
Picasso
cats
cat shows
Tonkinese
Ocecat
trouble maker
insane cat
fresh meat
tasty meal
orange beast of stupidity and terror
piss master
locked away
prison
snow bound
winter
harsh
white
ugh
cabin fever
Word chosen: ferret
Writing:
Kiara and I used to have two ferrets, Mischief and Trouble, as pets. Mischief was a tiny little thing (as far as ferrets go), and Trouble was fairly large ferret. Mischief was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, and Trouble was down-right crazy, but he was fun to be around.
One of the problems with Trouble was that he was deaf. We got a good deal on him from a pet store in Montana, and the owner of the store told me that he had taken him back two times already, and would not take him back again. Trouble had been returned for biting the previous owners. Dumb owners. Ferrets bite. Duh.
We got him home and after a few days, we noticed that he would not react to someone knocking on the door, running the vacuum, or other loud noises. I snuck up behind him with some pots and pans, and banged them together. It didn’t even phase him.
He was deaf.
Ahh….
That explains his sudden lashing out when someone would pick him up from behind. He couldn’t hear them coming, and it was a startle reaction, not a mean one. He loved being picked up, and loved cuddling. He just wanted to know that it was coming.
In three of the four places that we lived with the ferrets, they had their own room. Mischief would come running when we called her name, but we had to flick the lights on and off in the room to get Trouble’s attention. It worked amazingly well. I think it was mainly because we usually had cooked noodles with us when we did it. Mischief was a picky eater, but Trouble was a cavernous pit when it came to food, and he really loved the noodles.
Maybe I should have named him Noodle instead.
It’s been quite a few years since we’ve had ferrets in our lives. I miss them quite a bit, but I’m not sure that they would be a good thing to have around a newborn, or even a small child. Maybe Kiernan (my soon-to-arrive son’s online handle) will want one when he’s older… We’ll see how it goes.
satyromaniac
Random word list:
satyromaniac
sphenocephalous
nivernaise
territorialism
psychos
Word chosen: satyromaniac
Definition: a lascivious man; lecher.
Free association word list:
Vince
roommates
studio apartment
simple times
Pizza Hut
delivery
hard on the car
POS car(s)
Chevy Citation
strange cars
Dodge Diplomat
old cop car
bullet hole
guns
shooting
NRA
guns good
people bad
Word chosen: simple times
Writing:
When I was first on my own, I was in a two bedroom duplex with 4 other people, but that’s a story for another time. I want to tell you about the apartment that J.J. (and then eventually Vince) and I lived in.
It was a two-level studio. That basically means one big room downstairs, and one big room upstairs. Big is a relative term. The rooms were about 12×30 or so. Not really all that big. Downstairs was the kitchen, and upstairs was the bathroom. There was also a closet on each level. It was a great place to live because we were all just getting started out, and didn’t have lots of money.
The apartment ran $99 a month, and our two phone lines and electric bill ran us another $25-$30 a month more. Once you split that three ways, the total cost of living there was about $40 bucks a month for each of us.
We all worked at Pizza Hut. Vince and J.J. were cooks at a normal Hut that didn’t deliver, and I worked down the road at the Hut that was just a DelCo (Delivery/Carry Out) unit. They were cooks at their Hut, and I was a delivery driver. They had a harder time making ends meet than I did, though. They just got their hourly wages. I had my hourly wages plus $0.50 per delivery plus tips. In a week, I would usually make enough to cover my monthly bills. That left me with my paycheck, and extra tips to have fun with.
Most people would consider that extra money beer money. There were two problems with that. J.J. and Vince were recovering alcoholics, so no booze in the apartment. We were also all under 21, but that was more of a challenge than a true barrier to getting booze in my hometown.
Instead of booze, I would spend my extra money on books. Role-playing books to be exact. That was during my “buy every RPG out there” phase. There were some crappy ones (Pendragon and Dangerous Journeys come to mind), and there were some really good ones (Cyberpunk 2020, Top Secret S/I, and D&D 2nd ed. come to mind.) There were also some mediocre ones, but they slip my memories right now. I guess that’s why they were mediocre.
Those were good times… Simple living. Simple job. Simple hobbies. Lots of spare time.
Having said all that, I wouldn’t go back to it in an instant. My life now is much more rewarding than it was back then in every aspect.
Guelphism
Random word list:
spermatozoic
paranitrosophenol
Guelphism
Slovintzi
masque
Word chosen: Guelphism
Definitions:
1. a member of the political party in medieval Italy and Germany that supported the sovereignty of the papacy against the German emperors: opposed to the Ghibellines.
2. a member of a secret society in Italy in the early 19th century that opposed foreign rulers and reactionary ideas.
Free association word list:
Pope Bennedict
Modern Inquisition
Spanish Inquisition
torture
waterboarding
interrogation
General Attorney
nomination
Senate
vote
approval
balance of power
unbalanced
spying
telecom industry
EFF
Steve Jackson Games
Secret Service
Word chosen: EFF
Writing:
The Electronic Frontier Foundation was started when Steve Jackson Games was erroneously raided by the Secret Service for things that they had nothing to do with. One of SJG’s authors was working on a role-playing supplement called “Cyberpunk” for the GURPS RPG. During the course of the author’s investigation, he came across plenty of information on hacking, phreaking, cracking software, and the people that do such things. Most of this went into the game as rules on running these situations. Turns out that the Secret Service thought it was a how-to manual, and raided SJG’s office.
SJG lost all of their computers, all of their in-process work, lots of equipment, and Steve Jackson damn near lost the company. He had to cut back so severely that he had to lay off half of his staff! In the end, SJG persevered, and is thriving quite well.
The EFF was the organization that helped bail SJG out of their legal troubles, and went after the Secret Service to get justice for SJG. Ever since those days in 1990-1991, the EFF has fought the battle to keep our electronic communication mediums open, honest, secure, and private from the prying eyes of the government.
I’ve been a moral supporter of their efforts for years and years, but I only recently joined the ranks of the monetary supporters since it was only recently that I was able to do so. I hope to be able to continue my membership with them for quite some time.
If you have any fears about privacy in our digital age, and what people are doing to protect that privacy, please check out the EFF. They’re a great group of people doing great things for this nation and its citizens.
Their web site is located at: http://www.eff.org/
Scaramouch
Random word list:
mythopoesy
thorough
Scaramouch
throat-clearing
maple-leaved
Word chosen: Scaramouch
Definition: A stock character in commedia dell’arte and farce who is a cowardly braggart, easily beaten and frightened.
Free association word list:
Cyrano de Bergerac
French class
Mrs. Setzer
Katie
Heather
Europe trip
six weeks
fun
Britain
France
Belgium
Netherlands
Switzerland
Austria
Lichtenstein
West Germany
East Germany
Berlin Wall
No Man’s Land
Wall comes down
old man
sledge hammer
pieces
ghost
spirits
anger
hatred
fear
solace
healing
Word chosen: Berlin Wall
Writing:
In the summer of 1990, I was part of a tour group from high school that went to Europe for six weeks. While there, the Berlin Wall fell, East and West Germany became economically unified (the political parts were still in the works), and West Germany won the World Cup Soccer tournament.
The part that I remember the best was helping bring down the wall. Sure, pressure from Western countries, and from within Germany itself was what caused the wall to be destroyed, but I was one of the millions of people that actually picked up a sledge hammer to swing it at the steel and concrete construct that had so harshly divided the great country of Germany for so many decades.
There was a fairly large gathering of people near the wall that can only be described as a party. Most of our group joined the party, and enough of us spoke enough German to gather that they were there to take turns tearing down this section of the wall. Most of the people were in their college days, but there were a few older people watching.
There was a fairly old man off to the side that was not partaking in the festivities. Instead, he was wailing on the wall with his sledge hammer and crying the whole time. I could tell that this meant more to him than merely tearing down a symbol of hatred and tyranny. This was affecting him on a personal level far deeper than I could have imagined.
At one point he leaned the sledge hammer against his hip to catch his breath, but I could tell that he didn’t want to stop. His old, worn-out body just could not keep up with the emotional waves that were washing over him. I knew that he could not stand the break from tearing down the wall. He would push himself to the ends of his life in his effort to swing that hammer.
I broke off from the party, and approached the man. I asked him if he spoke English as I did not speak German. With a slight accent (he was obviously well versed in English) he told me that he did, and asked me what I wanted. With a lump in my throat, I asked him if I could help him tear down the wall.
With sadness in his eyes, he smiled at me, and handed me the sledge hammer. I took it up with the same fervor that he had applied to the wall. My young teenage body could hold up to these rigors much better than his frame could. As his proxy, I helped knock huge chunks from the wall. The man never once cheered me on, voiced his approval, or told me that I was doing a good job. I just swung, and swung, and swung.
Somewhere during the swinging of the old man’s hammer, I could feel a visceral rage building inside me. I knew the history of the wall. I had read stories about the wall. I knew what it had done to the great society of Germany. The greater my physical exhaustion built up, the greater my hatred of this concrete and steel wall became. I ended with a few mighty blows that were driven from deep within me. As I stood there sweating and swinging, I screamed out a barbaric yawp that caused me to swing the hammer harder than I’ve ever swung anything before.
I finally stepped back from the wall, and looked at the old man. This time he smiled at me, and the smile reached his eyes. He put his hand on my shoulder, and told me that I had done enough. I had done my part. He thanked me for my assistance, and told me that it was time to get something to drink. We had both worked up a mighty thirst.
I dropped the sledge hammer and left it where it fell. Before we walked away, I grabbed a handful of pebbles, dust, and stone from the wall to shove in my pocket. The old man took me to a nearby beer hall, and we spent the next hour talking. Well, I spent the time listening, and he spent the time talking. Somehow, I got the feeling that he this was the first time that he had told anyone his story in a very long time. It was cathartic for him to tell his story, and I loved listening to every moment of it even though the tale was a sad one.
I’ll sum up the story as I’ve already written enough here today…
He lived in what I grew up calling East Berlin, but worked in West Berlin. It was all one Berlin at the time. One day, while going home, he found a wood and wire fence in his way blocking the road with Soviet soldiers guarding the fence. He tried to find a way around it, but could not. He was cut off from his family. He tried for several days to find a way through, but could not without extreme risk of getting shot. He had heard stories of people trying to breach the fence only to die for their efforts.
Over the years the wood and wire fence grew into the Berlin Wall that I grew up learning about. As the years passed, he exchanged letters with his wife and two daughters on the other side of the wall. It was the only contact that he had with the family that he was forcibly divided from.
One day, his letters were returned to him undelivered, and the letters from the other side of the wall stopped arriving. He never did learn what happened to them. They just vanished. He blamed the Berlin Wall for all of this, and I don’t blame him one bit. There’s no telling what happened to his family. He said that now that he had access to East Germany, he was going to spend the rest of his days trying to find out what happened to them.
I wish that I had the forethought to write down the man’s name, phone number, address, or something. I never did. This was over 17 years ago, and I can’t for the life of me recall his name. I wish that I could, but it wouldn’t help. I never did get his last name. A first name isn’t much help in tracking down a person on another continent.
Sometimes my thoughts stray to that night in Berlin, and I wonder what happened to the old man. Sometimes I wonder if he ever found his wife or two daughters. He was fairly old back then, and I’m not entirely sure he’s still around. If he is, I hope that he’s sitting in front of a raging fire, drinking some fine German beer, and listening to the sounds of his grand-children’s laughter as he watches the faces of his two daughters smile back him.
extraocular
Random word list:
well-acquainted
extraocular
iodopsins
half-erased
nonpoisonousness
Word chosen: extraocular
Definition: Inserted exterior to the eyes; — said of the antenn[ae] of certain insects.
Free association word list:
eyes
bad vision
lasik
lasers
burning
slicing
dicing
chopping
Mr. Popeil
Weird Al Yankovic
UHF
VHF
VHS
DVD
high-def
television
analog signal
FCC phasing it out
ham radio
ham fest
electronics
computers
upgrades
operating systems
lots of problems
wasted weekend
Word chosen: wasted weekend
Writing:
I run Ubuntu on my work laptop, and Gutsy Gibbon (7.10) came out a few weeks ago. I sat back and read the forums to see if anyone had issues with an upgrade. I was also waiting for the mirrors to cool off, so I wasn’t fighting millions of other computers for bandwidth during the upgrade process. The time seemed right to do the backup. I was going to do it last weekend, but I was on call, and I didn’t feel like putting my system out of commission while on call.
This weekend was the big weekend. I backed up my laptop Friday night, and fired off the upgrade process. It had about 1.5 gigs to download, so I walked away. When I got up Saturday, the upgrade was downloaded and the install was going. I sat in my office for about an hour answering the random questions about config files as they came up. After it was done, I spent another hour fixing my customized config files (which were saved by the upgrade process.) I also had to fight with my video drivers. It took a couple of settings changes and two reboots, but I finally got it worked out.
Then I started eye-balling my personal laptop. I was running Windows XP SP2 on it, and I decided that I was tired of Windows. I still wanted to keep a Windows partition around for the rare game that I play. I downloaded the latest version of gparted, and Ubuntu Desktop, before leaving for my RPG Saturday night.
I got up Sunday morning, and started backing up my Windows stuff to my external hard drive. While that was going, I burned gparted and Ubuntu to their respective disks. Once the backup was done, I decided to clean up Windows as much as I could to see how small I could make the Windows partition. After spending most of the day tracking down random temp files, backup files, unwanted software, and all that good stuff, I had my Windows down to 25 gig. That sounded huge to me, but I didn’t want to wipe and reinstall Windows. I decided to go with a 35 gig (out of 100) partition for Windows.
I booted off of the gparted CD, and gave it the commands to remove all partitions (linux, linux swap, and two tiny partitions that came with the system that I’m not sure what are on them,) and then resize the Windows partition. Ugh. gparted couldn’t do it. The Windows partition was 1032 sectors in size, and gparted can only handle partitions that are 1024 (or less) sectors in size. Unfortunately, by the time it realized this, my Linux partitions were gone. It did that first since that was the order of instructions that I gave it.
Since I was using GRUB as my bootloader, and the GRUB configs were on the Linux partition, my system wouldn’t boot. I threw in the Ubuntu CD, and booted from it. I installed Ubuntu, so that it would install GRUB, and then allow me to boot the system. This went fine, but was a waste of about 25 minutes.
Once I was back in Windows, I fired up Partition Commander, which can handle those larger partition sizes. I told it to move and resize the Windows partition. This started crunching along, and then failed with some error number (don’t remember the number) that was totally useless to me. I was beginning to wonder how I was going to accomplish my goal.
I booted back into Windows to find that several DLLs had been mangled. I threw in my Windows CD, booted into rescue mode, and restored the DLLs. This allowed my system to boot back up, but there was a problem with the driver for my PCI-Express BUS, which I assume my video card connects to. I assume this because my video was not working properly. I was running 16 bit color in 640×480 resolution on my 17″ widescreen LCD. HUGE icons and text ensued.
I spent the next three hours trying to rescue Windows, but it was beyond hope. It was at this point that I decided to wipe everything. I booted off of the gparted CD again, and wiped all partitions. Then I created the three partitions that I needed (35 gig for Windows, 84 gig for Linux, and 1 gig for swap.)
The next step was to boot from the Windows CD and start the Windows install. I was nervous doing this because it was a CD that I burned from my laptop as part of the “create rescue CD” software that came with my Dell laptop. I did not have a serial number or anything like that anywhere. Fortunately, the software didn’t ask me for one. (I did find it a short bit later on the bottom of my laptop, though. Good to know that it’s there.)
The state of things right now is that Windows XP SP 2 is installed and patched up-to-date. I have a fairly decent list of things to install on Windows. I’ve gotten a few things off of the list, but the rest will come tonight after I get home.
Once I get Windows back to where I want it, the next step is to re-install Ubuntu Gutsy Gibbon (7.10) on the Linux partitions, and get all of that setup and configured. That will probably happen Wednesday night as we have a meeting with our doula Tuesday night.
As an aside… We have a print-server-in-a-box with network, and two parallel ports on it. It takes some funky Windows drivers to be able to use it. Kiara pointed out that I probably wouldn’t be able to use it if I went with pure Linux. She was right. However, a quick google for “linux netgear ps110″ lead me to a few pages that pointed out that the ps110 was an embedded Linux device running lpd. Hah! The funky Windows drivers were doing nothing more than translating Windows print commands to Linux print commands and talking to lpd. I tested things on my work laptop, and within a few minutes, I was able to print to the printer. It even sent the data over the network about 10 times faster than my Windows laptop. Schweet!
Hopefully the rest of my upgrade/install attempts go more smoothly than they did on Sunday.
maundy
Random word list:
disqualifies
fannier
hyperfastidious
interveniency
maundy
Word chosen: maundy
Definition: the ceremony of washing the feet of the poor, esp. commemorating Jesus’ washing of His disciples’ feet on Maundy Thursday.
Free association word list:
Jesus
savior
Heaven
conversion
Heather
Katie
Mrs. Setzer
The Dark Side of the Moon
Space Shuttle
Space Station
solar power
repairs
good job!
space role-playing
Alternity
current Saturday night game
crazy
bat-shit crazy
Phil the Robot
escape from the Inhibitors
…for now….
FTL travel
Word chosen: current Saturday night game
Writing:
I could write for hours on this topic, but our current Saturday night game that Kolvedic is running is a hoot! We’ve been playing it for several months. I could try to summarize everything that we’ve been doing, but I think I’ll just describe (from my point of view) the characters (and one NPC) that are on our ship, “Smooth Operator.”
Spice is playing a homicidal mercenary named Greer. She’s all in favor of killing the easy targets, and really hates getting into tight spots. However, she’s always there when we need her, and has pulled us from the fire a few times.
Jhianna is playing Lephanie. Lephanie is an archaeologist that specializes in Forerunner technology, civilization, language, culture, etc. She’s also an open book. She will blather the honest truth to anyone that is asking her questions. She, like all of us, has some Conjoiner technology in her body and head. This means that we can talk to each other over a wireless network. It also means that other Conjoiners can do the same with us. More advanced Conjoiners can probe into our minds and get us to ask questions. Some of us can resist… Lephanie doesn’t have a chance!
Eric is playing Michael, who is a psion that seems to always have trouble follow him (which is not a unique trait in this group.) He always somehow manages to get loose from the trouble, but not without a little death following him. Michael is very proficient at causing physical harm to people, and I think he enjoys it a little.
I’m playing Marcus, who is a former hero of the Empire, and, through some twists, decided to join the rebels. Well, he still wishes harm to the Empire, but not her people. Things have come up that have caused him to maybe switch back to the Empire’s side. He’s really not sure right now. Marcus is a leaf on the wind, and we’re in the middle of a hurricane. He’s just trying to keep himself pointed in the direction of the moment, and is trying not to get anyone on his ship killed. He’s the captain of the ship, and he feels responsible for everyone on board. He had hoped to have retired from the military to smuggle goods to the rebels as a merchant. That pretty much didn’t happen. Now, he’s just struggling to keep his head above water, and try not to let anyone around him drown.
We had two NPCs on board, but one got fed to the Green Flies as part of a (we think) necessary step to stop the Inhibitors. The other was a psion from Earth that can through some strange technology see the future in bits and pieces. We had the leave him behind on the capital ship, Tellus, so he could guide them through building a faster drive system to get them unstranded from the middle of dead space, and on their way to the nearest star system with their hull full of refugees.
Now, we only have one NPC. It’s Phil. How to explain Phil? We first met Phil, and he called himself “The Sentinel.” He had been alone in a Forerunner complex for over 20,000 years, and had pretty much gone bat-shit crazy from loneliness. How did he survive so long? Well, he’s a robot packed full of Forerunner technology… mostly weapons. Ouch. Somehow a few of our people decided to snag Phil (the name Eric gave him) and leave with him when we released the Green Flies to fight off the Inhibitors in the Tilo star system.
I could go on and on trying to make things about this game more clear, but it’s such a mess right now, that I’m not sure any level of explanation will make it clear. Don’t get me wrong. I’m having a blast on Saturday nights. It’s a great time, and I can’t wait to find out what happens next because, with Kolvedic running the game, it’s damn hard to predict. That’s part of the fun.
Good times, man… good times….
