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Wednesday, April 28, 2010

I don't know why I feel like telling, but...

...I got into my first car accident about a week ago.  Not my fault, so the other insurance is taking care of it.  She pulled out in front of me while hidden behind a couple other cars.  I hit the brakes, but I'd been going a little less than 50mph, so it was still a pretty good wreck.  I probably hit at around 25-30mph, though it's hard to tell when you're concentrating on not dying.  (Trust me: 25-30mph is damn fast for a car wreck.)  I think the thing that annoys me most is that I'd really rather not have to deal with this while dealing with the school stuff.  Real life has no business in my school life!

Still....my poor baby.  TT_TT  She's not totaled, but still....I hate seeing Betty in pain.  (Betty is my car--yet another example of how far Kung Pow has infiltrated my life.  MmmmmBetty.)  I have the same kind of car now as the one that saved me and my family in a horrifying accident when I was four: Toyota Corolla.  Say what you will about power and speed, but those are tough little cars.  My entire family (including myself) might be dead or terribly injured otherwise.  (Hit by a drunk driver on a major highway, ended up rolling end-over-end several times, followed by multiple barrel rolls, followed by a rough landing in the median, right side up.  They had to get my mom out with the Jaws of Life.)  Instead, we're all fine, even my little brother, who was about two and a half at the time.  In fact, we walked away unharmed--which actually shocked the paramedics.... o_o;

Ah, and I'm fine, though it worries me that my airbags didn't deploy.  Note to self: check airbags.  I really thought I'd be too panicked to drive again, but really, I think I've got some sort of apathy bug, 'cause I'm perfectly fine.  I'm crying like a baby every day, but that's just because of stress from school and graduation.  Not related to the car...though looking at her black eye makes me cringe inside.

So I guess the moral of the story is: Don't get into car accidents.  Insurance companies are cranky buttmunches and you vehicle should be precious to you.  If it's not, then there's something wrong with you.  Also, seat belts are important--without them I'd be dead or mangled or something.  ALSO, don't pull out randomly into open traffic without first yielding the right of way.  Because otherwise you're just a douchetard. ALSO, drinking and driving is the most retarded thing any living person could ever do....aside from maybe shooting oneself in the foot on purpose.  ALSO!  Don't assume that everyone around you is a good driver.  Assume they're all retarded and talking on the cellphone while fiddling with the radio and cleaning up spilled soda.  Only then are you truly safe.

That is all.  Sorry for the rant.  I just turned in a massive Toxicology paper and I'm trying to wear out my brain before I have a chance to think about how many hours I spent on that thing.

I have to go sleep now, before my body collapses.
=_= ~*(cyh)*

P.S.: For those who might be curious as to what I'm doing, here's one of the projects I worked on, which was due today.  It was part of a hybrid project: a paper and something media-related.  I picked the internet because I want to know the internet for the good, and not the hours spent toiling searching for any and all of the horribly scarce chronic toxicity data available for tributyltin compounds.

Friday, April 23, 2010

I KNEW IT.

SEE?!




This is why Skynet must never be.

....Back to the salt mines with me...

=_= ~*(cyh)*

Monday, April 19, 2010

I've Officially Cracked.

So I was looking up some music to chill to whilst torturing myself with Meteorology and stumbled across an old favorite artist by the name of BT.  This guy does wonderful, mathematically-inspired music, and my favorite album by far is "This Binary Universe."

In short, I found a song.  It's entitled "Good Morning Kaia" and I haven't stopped crying since.  The music video is all video taken by the artist and his family, and it's about his daughter.

To those of you who like a feel-good cry-your-eyes-out-because-you-ought-to-on-occasion video, I give you this.

Make sure to read the text.  It's a message to his daughter.

....I have to go hug my daddy now.  TT____TT

8_8 ~*(cyh)*

Monday, April 12, 2010

The Future

 EDIT: I just realized that I wasn't allowing anonymous comments.   They are now allowed.  However, people who displease me will be deleted.  The words "When's the next episode?" will result in pain.  Q&A is on hold until I'm sane and well-rested again.  The cake is only a lie in the game.  Correct spelling and grammar preferred.  Egregious lack of the aforementioned spelling and grammar will result in deleted comments.  That includes punctuation.  If you're not an English-speaker, warn me first, and you're safe.  Rudeness is not tolerated.  I haven't slept in about three days.  Repetition of comments will also result in pain.  I have a headache.  I'm going to go finish that term paper now.

Good Night:

------ORIGINAL POST------

I figure I should make some sort of update-type thing before people start sending me pages of comments demanding the next episode.  It'll probably be awhile before I'm free enough to work on much more than the script.  Why, you might ask?  Well, this is why:

2 art projects
3 MASSIVE papers (One of which I expect to require at least 50hrs of research and about 20 peer-reviewed Journal articles.)
2 or 4 Presentations (I forget)
2 Hourly Exams (or more)
Several quizzes
Over 1000 pages of reading for various subjects
HELL WEEK  (AKA Final Exams)
And GRADUATION!!!

Yeah, I'm finally getting that Pre-Med bachelors I've been killing myself over for the past four years.  Huzzah.  All of this will happen over the next 30 days. I expect to be dead by the end of it, in fact.  No sleep and no fun makes Cyh want to kill things.  I'll be hovering around the internet in those spare moments between banging my head against the wall and reading or writing, but I'll be avoiding things like Skype and intense conversations like the plague.  I'm not ignoring you--I'm just killing myself slowly.  I just spent 2 hours combating the mathematics behind hurricane wind speeds.  Trust me--it's torture.  It was only ONE PROBLEM, but math is fail, so it took an eternity.

I'm trying not to stress, but it's not easy when school is out to get you.

Anyway, yeah, that's the immediate future.  I expect less than one percent of the people who watch Chell's Mind to actually read this--let alone look for my blog--but that fraction of a percent who does has my eternal gratitude.  You make it that much easier to give a crap about the series.  ~_~  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to read about Victorian England, Jack the Ripper, and then get about two and a half hours of sleep.

Ciao!
=_= ~*(cyh)*

P.S.  If you're bored and want to watch something awesome, though, check out this guy's LP videos.  There are 888 at the time of this posting, and they're all pure gold.  DC rocks.  Fo shizzle, yo.  (Iji, Civilization 1, and La Mulana are my current favorites--in that order.)

Friday, April 9, 2010

SAVE VALVE!!!

VALVe vs. Bioware Showdown

Go there.  Make an account.  Vote for VALVe.


That is all.  =_=  Good luck, soldiers.


=_= ~*(cyh)*

EDIT:  HUZZAH!! VICTORY GOES TO VALVE~!!!!!  XD

Saturday, April 3, 2010

This is Cake Town...and My Tonsil Hurts

That last post was...interesting. I'd take a break from obsessing over JDatE, but then I'd start seeing the shadow people again, and that wouldn't be cool.  But a portal to hell...now THAT I CANNOT give up.

On a more important note, I've gotten tons of questions for the Q&A, but why are most of them to me? These are for everybody in the group, so if I don't get enough for the others, I'll be forced to ask them my questions.

+_+ You do not want this.

On another important note, something is in my ear...cochlea...eustacean tube...throat? I can't tell. I've got one tonsil that hurts when I swallow, but is totally okay with chewing food, yawning, and all the other standard mandible manipulations. In other words, recording my voice now would probably kill it. Also, I'm plagued with transmission radios and the Latin music is driving me (and, most notably, Chell) up the proverbial wall. Other than burning them, I can't shut them up, and it's screwing up my plans! If you know how to make them stop, please inform me, for I am stymied at this juncture.

Too much Sherlock Holmes... =_=;

Okay, I'm gonna sleep now, before my ear explodes and my eyes fall out of their tired sockets...Bonne nuit, mon amis!  (Why the French?  Because I haven't used it yet.)

~_~ ...~zzZZ(cyh)ZZ

Thursday, April 1, 2010

YOU WILL SERVE HIM

...That is all.



I                    

SERVE

SERVE

SERVE

SERVE

SERVE                          
        SERVE                  

    SERVE              SERVE 
 SERVE SERVE               SERVE           
       SERVE        SERVE         SERVE      
          SERVE        SERVE               SERVE        SERVE
    SERVE            SERVE    SERVE      SERVE  SERVE                 SERVE
                    SERVE            SERVE    SERVE      SERVE  SERVESERVE    
   SERVE   SERVE    SERVE      SERVE      SERVE    SERVE    SERVE   
SERVE                                    
SERVE         SERVE    SERVE     SERVE SERVE           SERVE
          SERVE   SERVE SERVE  SERVE    SERVE  SERVE           SERVE  
SERVESERVE                         SERVE 
            SERVE  SERVE            SERVE   SERVE              
 SERVE                                  SERVESERVE  SERVESERVESERVESERVE
 SERVE        SERVE      SERVE  SERVE SERVESERVE  SERVESERVESERVE
  SERVE SERVE  SERVE           SERVESERVE             SERVE 
         SERVE  SERVE   SERVE  SERVE       SERVE           SERVE SERVE
          SERVE                        SERVE         SERVE            SERVE   
SERVE SERVE SERVE              SERVE SERVE  SERVE      SERVE  SERVE 
SERVE        SERVE                 SERVESERVESERVE
                    SERVE   SERVE  SERVE SERVESERVE SERVE  SERVE    
    SERVE   SERVE    SERVE    SERVE   SERVE SERVESERVE    SERVE 
         SERVE                        SERVE                SERVE
SERVE    SERVE                    SERVE  SERVE        SERVE          
          SERVE            SERVESERVE    SERVE          SERVE          
SERVESERVE                        SERVE                       SERVE      SERVE
SERVE        SERVE         SERVE  SERVE     SERVE          SERVE  SERVE
SERVE SERVE SERVE          SERVE SERVE      SERVE      SERVE  SERVE 
SERVE        SERVESERVE        SERVE
SERVE        SERVE
                 SERVE            SERVE 
                             SERVE       
SERVE  SERVE  SERVE   
      SERVE
               
SERVE              
                               
SERVE       

SERVE

SERVE                 
                                                
NONE

BUT

K
O
R
R
O
K



Mistah Kurtz -- he dead.


    
        
            A penny for the Old Guy
        
    

            
                I
            

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

            
                II
            

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

            
                III
            

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

            
                IV
            

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

            
                V
            

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

                    For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow


                    Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

                    For Thine is the Kingdom


For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.