[video=youtube;EoCPuhhE6dw]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EoCPuhhE6dw[/video]
If Winston Smith decided to launch himself into the telescreens of Nineteen Eighty-Four as such then I would be quite positive that the society of Oceania would have dismantled itself immediately.
I shall hope you have yet to reach the Pride Lands - there would be an ample amount of bones present for the others to hit Sora with.
Oh those two silly roosters attempting to replicate the flamingo in the middle of the image.
An unfortunate side effect of KH-Vids usage. Thank goodness nutella crepes are the most effective cure, indeed.
It was but nights, when we would all huddle about the fire lit by the dead Spam Zone threads, that the older, wiser members would throw up their hands towards the heavens, calling upon the name of a great angel that pierced their dramatic stories and hearts alike in arrows of nostalgia.
Conducting or following that "fad" fad has always been quite silly indeed.
[It is thus now time to post extremely bland and silly poetry I had written for a school project within the confines of these halls.] THE ICONOCLASTS or, Zeitgeist CANTO I In deaths of sun and smiles of night, The Doctor sat quite lone. He pondered 'mongst the soul-less fire, Man's Ides but rarely honed. His mind would dance throughout the sea Of pasts and dreams gone by. And wonder at the world beyond His red-starred, mental sky. But dusty dreams were brought to life, As mail was sent throughout, Like birds, to invite such strangers, To quite a timeless bout. The Doctor gasped at such invites That would provide a show. Of such a wondrous world around, His own quite stringent row. He packed his case and donned a mask, Of beakéd mystery. To keep his mind within his head And not let thoughts roam free. He stepped outside into the dark. To venture through the world, That would propose this dithyramb, And change just quite unfurled. CANTO II The Doctor stood and ogled thus, A wondrous keep of light That rose before a cloud of those, Obsessed with modern blight. His invite sent forth called upon The Doctor's special skills Of puppeteering life as such, And all its charms and thrills. He was to save a daughter's mind From points of bleak despair, And philes and love of strangest thoughts, And hearing those not there. The Doctor thought this reason queer How such a girl could stay, Restrained and left to her own mind, With contact kept away. But he thought nothing of these thoughts As he stepped onward fore, And cast himself into the crowd Of hedons evermore. Thus would the Doctor test his mind, His thoughts, his ides, his view, As he would stride among the lights, Sans vision set askew. CANTO III He entered like a shadowed wind, A mist about the trees That danced and swayed through drunkedness With such a jolly breeze. The Doctor stood confused at such Cacophony abound How ghosts and imps of pleasure danced In such outrageous sound. Their glasses 'flected spears of light Their footwork stumbling down Their faces in Byzantine joy Ignorant and sans frown. The Doctor stood away from this Enshallowed dithyramb And mourned the death of modern days To be slaughtered like lambs. But in the corner he then found A beacon of sane thought. To which he set himself towards Whilst with present he fought. He met the man's own flighted face, And smile forgiving game. As he held out his hand and thus Said “Hermes is my name.†CANTO IV The odd Grecan brought up his mask To which the Doctor claimed, “I don this beak to hide the stench Of superficial shame. That drifts itself throughout this home In shadows of this age, With Roaring Twentied shallow love, And lack of thought quite sage.†The storm-scarred face forgave a laugh In heartened, joy'd amuse: “Oh how the old keep strict to Ides, And stand 'gainst modern cues. Step with me, sir, and I'll bring forth A song of shallow seers That scar such saintly, surrept souls Just like that girl you fear.†The doctor gapes at how the man Saw his reason to be, Among the Host's own party guests, To fix a girl he'd see. And thus the Grecan then brought forth A careful compromise, Of bringing him toward the child, Before the dawn's old rise. CANTO V The two odd men, one young one old Set off upon their trek, 'Round great bleak waves of dancing jest, And drunks but in a wreck. The Doctor viewed these scenes aghast At how these humans may Revel themselves in senseless love Until the light of day. They passed a man upon a throne Of drunken, tipsy views. He held one eye for things gone past And one for things anew. They passed a couple lacking love That danced in broken bells, With gars and filles of mindless joy On shores of Asphodel. And at the doorway of the Host They met a dog-like man Whose tired, worn out, tri-scarred face Held no protective plan. The Grecan left the Doctor here To help the sickly girl, And hope that his old sheltered mind Would see the world unfurled. CANTO VI Inside the room the Doctor viewed The Host but quite awry, Upon his wisened wooden chair And in a drunk spry. He sat abound such wine galored Quite Dionysian, And headless fancies in the skies Of fluttered minds again. He turned himself towards the man And called in toxic blight: What such a man was doing here, In his beleaguered plight. The Doctor claimed his presence beared Was due to his young girl. And how she played with voicéd thoughts That would forsake her world. The Host, draped in such alcohol As chilling as a cloak, Did not care of the words he called And permissions evoked. So Doctor passed the hollow man With sleights of senseless fear For worlds within the young girl's room, That he would draw quite near. CANTO VII The Doctor stepped inside the room To which there was a call, “I understand your voyage, sir, For I have seen it all.†The girl sat in her bed of thought With skin like pallid stone And eyes that shone in wisened lights Of pearly abalone. The Doctor claimed his presence her Was due to her quite ill But she quite quaintly quoted forth: “I brought you through such hills.†She claimed she wished to see the world, For voices that she heard, Were that of drunken pillar-folk And silent, flightless birds. She sent invites throughout the land For rescue and for save Of her and men quite old like him, To view the world, both brave. And Doctor, though surprised at first Began to open thought Towards her ides of rescue from Such narrowed views quite wrought. EPILOGUE And thus did Doctor sit upon His own such chair of mind And listened forth the girl's own ides From depths of voices lined. So here it was that Doctor thus Began to view anew, The world described in such a home With brightly foggy view. (The final stanza is extremely short due to time constraints, indeed.)
Ah, wonderful, I suppose I shall enter this contest with a rather simple series of stanzas sans superb amounts of creativity: Spoiler THE AMBER KING Amongst the hills of a sunsett'd red Where nary a stringent soul may tread And such lacklustre dreams Рlike blood hath shed With sharp ire and blade, by Ares led Lived the Amber King, in stagnant domain Isolate and lone without such refrain. Upon gilded throne, sans mind to rule With hollow fist as his mason tool To rule over swathes of invisible fools Made to sate raw power, O so cruel Lived the Amber King, in stagnant domain Isolate and lone without such refrain. He held only company in raged mirrors dear Wrathful, reflective of his horrible leer A simple hauberk to the grotesqu̩d fear He held of the world, so odd and so queer Lived the Amber King, in stagnant domain Isolate and lone without such refrain.
Hm, there has not been an update through the Twitter channel for a good while - I shall take such a sign in an optimistic stride and presume that Luxord is well enough, quite hopefully?
Spoiler Jadesprite certainly holds quite a bit of potential - it appears that beneath the wings of Davesprite she shall certainly progress. There is also a particular song on the Volume 7 album that appears to further imply the presence of Dave in some sort of rather heroic action - "Even in Death" it is named, and Dave's leitmotif is certainly noticeable among the general track. I am simply curious as to what it may indeed imply - it reminds me a tad of the point in Megalovania which plays in accordance with the God Tier initiation of Aradia.
Ah, indeed, this general expansion upon the idea as an all-encompassing Antagonist week would be quite interesting. The signatures would serve as lovely representations of what characteristics make the antagonists.
Quite excellent news indeed. It is quite lovely to see further progress within the rights of humanity through our own eyes and lifetimes - unfolding as such before us. It shall certainly be quite good for the lovers in New York as well. Now we must simply wait until other states and political denominations begin to legalize homosexual marriage as well - a sort of hopeful domino effect.
Such may be quite subjective depending upon the various strengths and weaknesses of the members themselves, and what may indeed constitute the factor of "strength". Overall, as stated previously, Xemnas would certainly be the strongest Organization member overall sans detailed explanation - we are all indeed quite aware of what powers he may use (and indeed, he was even able to utilise the weapons of but every other deceased Organization member). Per the terms of general character, Roxas would be extensively strong as well - evidenced through the conflict between Roxas and Sora. Past such a point, strength delves furthermore into general subjectivity - we can assume that, from a general plot standpoint, the other organization members hold their own strengths and weaknesses relative to each other (besides a few obvious differences in powers and whatnot, which results in some greater and lesser force) - from a gameplay perspective, however, Xigbar and Xaldin are certainly two of the strongest members per my opinion.
Indeed, a wonderful factor of the game is that one may set their own general objectives and thus pace themselves accordingly - a true sandbox game, to the point where even the difficulty curve would thus be slightly manipulated by the interests and creativity of the player him or herself. As for the texture packs, there are indeed a number of them that have been floating around the internet - realistic ones to even Animal Crossing-inspired packs, and I would presume quite a myriad of others.
Ah, Homestuck. It is an addiction, but it is indeed understandable how such may not be applicable to all tastes - especially considering its length. It is a bit like the Brothers Karamazov in that it takes a large amount of pages to reach the meat of the story (quite usually many are hooked by Act 5 or so), but this investment being worth is most certainly dependent upon the reader him or herself. Certain fans can indeed be a tad excessive over it - please do not mind them, they simply wish to spread a message of some sort, I suppose. Quite usually fans do not appear to be too excessive as the aforementioned (besides the occasional reference). Such experiences are quite understandable. The reasoning over the humour is that it is truly divided into two sections - one section being general references that anyone shall understand, and the second being extreme webs of inside jokes and references to other works by Andrew Hussie which readers of Problem Sleuth or any other adventure may understand fully, which is why, in some aspects, Homestuck may appear a bit tangled and messy with its impromptu humour. This, in essence, may be why some humour may feel a tad "forced". The storytelling aspects vary enormously throughout the story - and indeed, I am quite certain that at least one or two storytelling methods shall appeal to most everyone. A recent trend has been a series of interactive video game flashes based around those 16-bit RPG games everyone appears to enjoy, and the flashy flashes certainly increase in amazing quality, per my opinion. I suppose this in itself is indeed a matter of choice, however. In conclusion, Homestuck is an investment best made depending upon the reader him or herself. Whether it was worth it in the end, however, would indeed be per the reader's own opinion. I personally found the story quite appealing, but respect must be made for those who were not enticed by it - indeed, at least such made an attempt to see the special sides of such a story. Opinions shall be opinions.
I shall nominate you, good sir, for "Member with Largest Warehouse of Gifs" One day you certainly must engage in a contest with Reptar.
Which British Prime Minister is rather happy with his weight? Spoiler William Gladstone
I hold a handful of ideas of various quality. - The Relationship Between Nature and Technology - Shakespearean factors - quotes, scenes, etc. - Signatures in the general aesthetic style of various time periods of one's choosing - A reflection on the culture of the signature artist's home nation - The various types of Unversed - Perspective
Ah, Nineteen Eighty-Four, a very depressing novel but, as stated previously, it certainly permits one to think and consider possibilities. Quite personally, the depicted Oceania appeared to be but a combination - it was most certainly reflective of Britain in World War II - especially alluded to with the factor of the random missiles striking the Prole sections of the city (see: The Blitz) - whilst it is this drawing upon such a scenario that he is able to convey such a future and potentially dismal society based around the repressive factors and negative qualities of humanity. The novel is both a sort of invocation of horrendous wartime conditions and the human-based connotations associated with them, outlined in the novel as how the government is but achieved as such, run by, and controls the population through these. And indeed, it would certainly make some sort of sense for the novel's scenario to be based upon the factor of the government and war in World War II - fascism of the sort was quite pervasive, even in England (see: Oswald Mosley), and the novel painted a rather bleak image of a regime that was essentially a hyperfascist state. These ideas were prevalent throughout Europe in the 1920s and 1930s as a result of seething nationalism and anger left over from World War I, and they provide an image - or warning, perhaps, as noted - of such qualities achieving prominence at the expense of human thought and progress in general. It was certainly a warning - one against these scenarios, for indeed, it was written at a time when they were quite prevalent (and totalitarianism in itself was rising), and one for pursuing as such beneath the factor of extensive negative human qualities. Fans of Nineteen Eighty-Four, I certainly implore you to read Yegveny Zamyatin's We, as it was essentially the inspiration of both this and Brave New World, and provides an interesting insight into strict rationalism and human conditions in context with such a society, along with a multitude of Biblical references.
