Ah relax...

Ah, a five star weekend all in all; I could regail you with a long and tedious blow by blow account of it all in intricately fascinating(?) detail, with clever jokes and puns, flowing descriptive text, thoughtful insights as to how it has effected me and suchlike and so on. Or alternatively I could do what I normally do and spew a mangled screaming block of text that is recognisable as English only by the fact that the words are whimpering with an accent you recognise. Alternatively I could actually skip the weekend, move straight to page five and diversify off onto describing how to talk about the weekend rather than actually doing any writing about it. So I'll end with a poem.

Ah! Another level
Five one sound, just amazing
Chill out Sunday

I never was very good at those.

Number three tube away!

I feel the need to write, but don't have anything to braindump, well not to say that I don't have anything in my brain - although this is possibly disputable - but more to say I'm not in the frame of mind to actually just wholesale download to text a chunk of rambling burble that vaguely identifies as language. Hmmm. So I'm just rambling instead, which probably isn't that much different, but certainly more coherent at least. But hey, it's kept you distracted for a few seconds, a few seconds of entertainment or getaway from the world around you as I mercilessly suck you into this stream of words that flicker from my keyboard like... like... a word flickering keyboard thing. Hmm. Maybe I use too many similes, I know I use them a lot; maybe I should set myself a quota or some kind of limit and format every piece of text I write. Counting off nouns, verbs and other important factors in my prose and then adjusting it to the criteria that I've set myself. But then that would be artificial, true I'll go back and tweak things I've written, but that's usually for repetition (one of my personal bugbears) or if I think of something that 'sounds' better, although I don't speak out loud when I read I do try and (usually) flick over anything I've written and edit/change the odd word or three to make them somewhat more readable; the exception to this being braindumps, which are so malformed and chaotic theres a) little point and b) editing would destroy the whole point of them anyway.
But then this is sort of a rambling brain dump anyway, perhaps more just a jumping list of thoughts that came to me as I started writing, which as I think I previously noted, sometimes I just have to do.
And you get to be inflicted with it all, lucky you - I'd get a doctors appointment if I were you...

I wants one!

http://www.lesters.com/titanic.htm

Hmmm...

Continuing apologies to the world in general for my good mood. Sorry!

Anyway; Windows. Scourge of something or other.
Windows files have a useful 'properties' section if you right click on them, it gives you useful information like, attributes, date created, date modified; and also - more interestingly - date accessed. Ie the date that the file was last looked at. Now since these properties have to look at the file to do so, this means this date will always be today.
Pointless, no?

Chimerical Treasure of the Day

This idea was brought to you in association with Blutac - the sticky blue stuff you just can't get enough of!

Strictly for a troll, this treasure has an effect that is a variant of the lucky merit; (probably 3 points cost then). It can only be used by trolls, and is a large heavy belt covered in scratches and pockmarks.
It has a single effect that can only be used once a day, which is to allow the wearer an additional combat retest related to strength or stamina which is called the "I'm a big blue meanass troll and I can kick you ass" retest. This must be entirely stated in full (ooc obviously) for the effect.

Zen and the art of pitchforks

You sit and ask why, why the first and most often asked question ever, from kids to the grave; why can't I have my cake, why am I dying, why, why, why. Always why. Curiosity and the need to repeatedly question everything we do in our never-ending fascination and desire to know every little thread and reason behind every facet of our lives to the point where some people become more obsessed with the why than the how. This is how psychology and philosophy breed, proto-memes that they are. "But without questions we are nothing." you may well say. Really?
Can you go a day without a question?
Like a diet, or kicking a drug habit questions are habit forming and breed; the more answers we get the more questions we have, the more we think, the more our mind works and the further we get to "inner peace" because we just have more questions and more things we want to know after every answer. Shut down, tune off and pause the boat. No ticket return, get away from it all. Yes a brief ramble, but this is sort of the point, if indeed there is one here.
Inner peace; or at least, inner calm, a point where your mind isn't thinking, which frankly is rather tricky; you process thoughts, ideas and reactions every waking moment; where do my fingers go when I type, Am I stepping on an uneven pavement slab, is the cheese in this sandwich off? Shutdown is what I think (now) is sometimes needed - or better a point where your mind simply becomes a receiver for everything around it, which - short of total sensory depravation - you're always going to be, so rather than trying to shut out the world around you try not processing it, music becomes just sound, vision just images - admittedly (imo) the hardest part to shut off, the other senses are relatively lower down the scale for cut off, but they can still be filed away in a box somewhere.
Anyway, to drag this ramble kicking and screaming towards some kind of conclusion; today I managed such, quite unexpectedly, whilst I was at the gym on the good ol' crosstrainer, music blaring in my ears from a nearby speaker and the sight of a nearby field staring at me through the glass in front of me.
We rest our bodies and we delude ourselves that we rest our minds when we sleep - but can we honestly know 100% that our minds are truly calm centres whilst we do this? Dreams for one speak against it.
But anyway, whilst my body was mindlessly pushing pedals I suddenly struck a section of my thought and everything drifted away.
The view was just colours in front of me.
The music just sound, no thought to processing what.
For around 15 seconds or so I had a total and complete mindblank, and it was like a sense of almost peace or maybe just a rest for my poor old brain that it was long overdue from getting.
Now I'm not saying that I advise you try this or not, or anything else about it other than just a few moments here I thought I'd explain this and what I thought, ironically, it meant.
Because sometimes, frankly, we think too much.