i scour the net for many a thing. to occupy the part of my brain that awaits ever eagerly to be entertained by a new concept or theory. a slice of my alter ego to live vicariously through the author or person of interest in the story. to sometimes work both sides of the problem, devils advocate style, to flex my inner liberal subconscious. then every so often some true type font catches my eye and conveys an interesting message or point of view that motivates me weary bones enough to share. i usually try to keep my items of interest short and sweet, we all know about attention spans. blah! so i apologize in advance if you dont have the will at this possible moment. but find the way, as the next two posts are worth the time spent.
Google Shakedown sounds like some dirty mob politics across the Atlantic. some prideful Italian politicians felt the need to circumvent a standing EU law and slap google across the face with a white glove. with such parlor tricks other players are bound to follow suit..a wonderfully written article btw.
from the article : "This is the big principal affirmed by this verdict," Robledo said. "It is fundamental, because a person's identity is a primary good. If we give that up, anything can happen and that is not OK."
..
"Europe is too ideological. This is why we are not the place where Yahoo and Google were born," Maffe said. "Google has been developed with an American mindset, much more entrepenuer-friendly."
Intelligence Argument
a strong set of statements, back by a study leading to a theory. sets me and my self proclaimed being of an intellectual as novel. but equally making most of america cavemen like god fearing sheep. Its a very interesting read. and the comments that follow heat up the article to a nice winter debate
from the article : An earlier study by Kanazawa found that more intelligent individuals were more nocturnal, waking up and staying up later than less intelligent individuals. Because our ancestors lacked artificial light, they tended to wake up shortly before dawn and go to sleep shortly after dusk. Being nocturnal is evolutionarily novel. . . .
a comment at the article : Freethinker said " Conservative, fundamentalist Religious Christians did fight slavery. A republican freed the slaves. etc. etc. However many high level democrats in the 1920-1970s were members of the KKK.(the numbers will surprise you) Racism is a leftist trait. Hitler was a socialist (read leftist). Stalin (again a socialist) was also a racist. Obamas rev. wright is also a racist socialist."
- the eager brain thanks me.
-denn
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
thought @ wonderfilled pairs.3
3)BBC Planet Earth and Ad-libbing
couple lovers rejoice! ive found yet another winning combonation of amazement! bringing back the wonder-filled pairs segment in full force! once you watch it you'll whole heartily agree with me, unless you struggle with finding humor in everyday life! anywho on with the show! i give you two out of the lot, so check the rest out! (thank you youtube)
credit to the british accents and humor!!.. hilarious! :)
(in cased you missed it the previous wonder-filled pairs )
1) conan and norris
2) abbot and costello
-dzilla
couple lovers rejoice! ive found yet another winning combonation of amazement! bringing back the wonder-filled pairs segment in full force! once you watch it you'll whole heartily agree with me, unless you struggle with finding humor in everyday life! anywho on with the show! i give you two out of the lot, so check the rest out! (thank you youtube)
credit to the british accents and humor!!.. hilarious! :)
(in cased you missed it the previous wonder-filled pairs )
1) conan and norris
2) abbot and costello
-dzilla
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
thought @ matching hat bonus
ok so you know this is pretty much a random thought...
with that being said, i was thinking today(dangerous i know), out in the cold rain. that i fancied myself a beenie. i was wearing my winter hoodie, elemental brand. Fleece lining, thick hood, heavy zipper and with those thumb thingys also. A black snowboarder jacket really, except for the water proofing. enchanting my spirit with enough warmth to feel like walking in the rain. like a +2 in weather resistance. So i went rummaging through the left over winter stock of knit head scarfs scattered through out a couple of stores. pacsun first. not to shabby. real bright colors highschooler-esque. having just a small clear cube in the way back. holding only a handful of hat-beenies, you know the ones with the mock bill like a hat. a poorly constructed and executed design on all ten leaving me wanting. Next off to hot-topic. Pop-emo/goth/rocker/videogame nerd/cutesie chick- style.. .. i did say pop-style right?. A couple of headwarmers caught my eye. none with hat bills sown into them. but all with very pop prints. a decepticon one, a cool punisher design with a skull in the front where you can pull it over your face like a mask. sadly im not to fond of skulls either. and a dorky trendy twilight hat. Ha! no thanks. So i wandered out of the store and down to my last stop, zumiez. aka mr rags. hmm lets say, 8 years ago there was a similar store with a similar appeal called mr rags, when super baggy jeans were in style and the crossing between rap and rock started to happen. it was owned by billabong and contracted through macys.. so eventually it evolved into zumies. i could be wrong but i think thats what happend, ill have to check my facts another time. without me wandering on another tangent, i found a beenie!!.. two infact!! one solid black, ribbed for everyones pleasure, with a tight weave and two red stripes that went the circumference of the hat. the other, a red, light grey ,dark grey, a loose style semi warm hat. it was buy one get one 50% off!.. got both for 25!! sweet deal.
anyhow. basically where my random thought leads, is to the point where.. if you complete an outfit but not over doing it. you get bonus points. So lets say my jacket was +2 weather resistance +1 style itself.. and the beenie is +1 weather resistance and +1 style by itself. but if you put them together you get +3 weather res. +2 style. and since they match and it completes the outfit.. you magically get a matching hat bonus.. of +1 style and an extra +1 weather resistance.. because you look good doing it.. make any sense??.. hah!..
ha.. random..
-denn
with that being said, i was thinking today(dangerous i know), out in the cold rain. that i fancied myself a beenie. i was wearing my winter hoodie, elemental brand. Fleece lining, thick hood, heavy zipper and with those thumb thingys also. A black snowboarder jacket really, except for the water proofing. enchanting my spirit with enough warmth to feel like walking in the rain. like a +2 in weather resistance. So i went rummaging through the left over winter stock of knit head scarfs scattered through out a couple of stores. pacsun first. not to shabby. real bright colors highschooler-esque. having just a small clear cube in the way back. holding only a handful of hat-beenies, you know the ones with the mock bill like a hat. a poorly constructed and executed design on all ten leaving me wanting. Next off to hot-topic. Pop-emo/goth/rocker/videogame nerd/cutesie chick- style.. .. i did say pop-style right?. A couple of headwarmers caught my eye. none with hat bills sown into them. but all with very pop prints. a decepticon one, a cool punisher design with a skull in the front where you can pull it over your face like a mask. sadly im not to fond of skulls either. and a dorky trendy twilight hat. Ha! no thanks. So i wandered out of the store and down to my last stop, zumiez. aka mr rags. hmm lets say, 8 years ago there was a similar store with a similar appeal called mr rags, when super baggy jeans were in style and the crossing between rap and rock started to happen. it was owned by billabong and contracted through macys.. so eventually it evolved into zumies. i could be wrong but i think thats what happend, ill have to check my facts another time. without me wandering on another tangent, i found a beenie!!.. two infact!! one solid black, ribbed for everyones pleasure, with a tight weave and two red stripes that went the circumference of the hat. the other, a red, light grey ,dark grey, a loose style semi warm hat. it was buy one get one 50% off!.. got both for 25!! sweet deal.
anyhow. basically where my random thought leads, is to the point where.. if you complete an outfit but not over doing it. you get bonus points. So lets say my jacket was +2 weather resistance +1 style itself.. and the beenie is +1 weather resistance and +1 style by itself. but if you put them together you get +3 weather res. +2 style. and since they match and it completes the outfit.. you magically get a matching hat bonus.. of +1 style and an extra +1 weather resistance.. because you look good doing it.. make any sense??.. hah!..
ha.. random..
-denn
thought @ nerd contract
Recently i've signed a n00b to the ranks of our Starcraft squad!! All in honor of the up and coming release of the highly anticipated sequel - Starcraft 2 - Wings of Liberty Nerds rejoice everywhere!! Even at the end of the cinematic trailer, the marine clearly states all of our feelings.. "its about damn time" after an eternity of 12+ years and counting, we are blessed with not one game. but three! Each one building a richer and deeper environment for *tire screech*... ehh we all know its about the money.. but i truly dont mind. if i knew i had this hand, and i went to play it.. im going all in fellas!! and by the looks of it Blizzard did! I can only imagine now.... six pack of a&w pound of twizlers and a week of my life!.. muwhahahaha
Friday, February 19, 2010
thought @ short handed.
Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder...
~mr thoreau
oh henry, it seems we are like mind and like soul. ive experienced much of the same. and with efforts toward keeping myself busy, have allowed faint whispers of happiness to tickle my lobes. but in turn leaving me without respite to think my thoughts and sort my randomness. Hopefully in time ill resume attempts at grandure, and pen an article or three
~mr thoreau
oh henry, it seems we are like mind and like soul. ive experienced much of the same. and with efforts toward keeping myself busy, have allowed faint whispers of happiness to tickle my lobes. but in turn leaving me without respite to think my thoughts and sort my randomness. Hopefully in time ill resume attempts at grandure, and pen an article or three
Monday, February 8, 2010
thought @ brucelee
“If you spend too much time thinking about a thing, you'll never get it done."
... nike later went on to "just do it.." and success ensued
-denn
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
thought @ short story
The sound of mud sucking at the air and the putrid smell of the swamp bog rushed my senses. Pulling at my attentions firmly, as i awoke from yet another lucid day dream. My head blurred and i struggled to regain focus fending off fatigue again. Loosing my balance, I threw a clumsy automated step forward into the sludge, swallowed whole by the infernal muck that surrounded our unit for miles. Days had passed, since the last skirmish with local inhabitants leaving us at a feeble ten of fifty.
Living shadows of some sorts with bodiless eyes of a brooding crimson and multi appendage forms. Able towield the very moonlight that ominously illuminates everything around us, as weapon and shield.Blinding greenish flashes that seem to rip apart the fabric of night, streaking down in sudden death,followed by surprised screams of anguish through our comms.. Then seamlessly vanishing back into the gloom about us. We've battled them off several times before. Each time loosing a portion of the squad. Suffering costly trial and error as we found our plasma bayonets and flash bombs were the only success thwarting the assailants. Tirelessly we marched on.
We received weak intelligence at best. Just a short week before in Cryo-sleep as we landed on the dark side of Targus. The second moon of Remos, the fourth largest planet of one of the main systems in the Gem-Eye Quadrant. Infamously known part of space for having endless caches of raw untouched mines of vast untold riches. Diamonds, ore, gold, utonium, you name it, it was there. We were a black raidercompany, commissioned for a simple search and recover gig. Drop and pop over to some lost probe beacon,and *caaaacching!* A years pay for a third of the time, heavier pockets are always a bonus! I figured it was about the "Spaced traversed" hence, why we were charging so much.
Previous expeditions were only sanctioned to go into the first twenty percent of G.Q.. Where it was explored and deemed void of all hostile life by the Marshalls' of Eminent. A bad-ass squad of royally appointed Terminators.And the next best thing was us, a group of mercenaries seeking profitable endeavors. without any legal bindings We were hired to travel about a fort-night deeper into the G.Q. unknown. With only the slightest probability of conflict. Previous scouting indicated a very small threat if any. Possible claim jumpers, rogue militants and/or some pirates. I prefer all three, it makes it all the merrier when they turn on each other in panic.
Hysteria would've been easier. Our predicament had me blinded with rage making me relish the moments where my subconscious replayed over the future dealings of my sweet revenge! Inflicting onto the fool who signed and approved the contracton this one. I should of known better when my instincts went ape-shit, on vague rumors of the night coming alive and the moonlight burning skin. Elaborate ghost stories meaning to dissuade any space travellers looking to score big on some undocumented dig site. What any of us wouldn't of paid out at that time for a little fore-sight into this hair-brained operation. Where we stood only a couple miles from the felled beacon. With rationed supplies and a low oxygen reserve.
Preparing for an inevitable clash from our vicious hosts. Highly aggressive up until then with guerrilla strikes and ambush tactics. We assumed the next one to be something a little of the same. But My instincts were starting to fire off on all sides and consider me a quick learner. The lunar night grew increasingly quiet, eerily still. The hair on my arms pricked out and wormed about my skin in the little faux gravity my suit created. The circle formed up in seasoned rhythm, shrinking in radius. As the chill of battle rippled through the remaining squad. The air tingled with anticipation and we slowed to an ankle deep relief in the trek. A long minute followed, slugging by as we steadied our breaths.
At first, I figured my heart that was racing to be the source, a low vibration from my feet, to a wobbling in the knees. Perhaps adrenaline to be the cause, of my stomach absently clenching and my back building with energy. I assumed the best until, my mecha-suit sensors registered the worst. A booming thunder rolled over us like a powerball stadium cheering with the force of thirty-thousand fanatics. centered just about a half a kilometer in the direction of, of course, our destination. My visor rattled under the sonar onslaught from some really freakishly huge, unknown. I almost lost my footing again, but oddly the mud held me up this time. I motioned a hand signaled to the front four, two on either side of me rushed into action, with a quick burst they took flight, followed by fire in rapid succession launching the flash bombs flying toward the faceless doom.
One popped a few hundred meters early, above a small copse of gnarled swamp trees. Melting away a part of the depth less night. A silent jab into the face of the heavyweight to come. After that, two popped within a couple seconds in between. One reaching a little farther than the first and then the third being closer to the distance my suit registered. Leaving the detonating area a tad lighter shade of greenish grey with another scattering of the moon night creatures. The final one, taking a graceful space roll-bounce about a hundred meters after, almost directly at the epicenter. Coming to rest into a small dip in the landscape.
An hour-like moment passed before the flash bomb blazed into glory. Revealing a ribcage-like form of what seemed to be a living mountain of swamp bog, murk and trees. A substantial mass of pure blackness pressing back at the flash bomb with noticable effort. Finally crashing down with an earth shattering force swallowing the light source whole. Making the rest of us instinctively take flight. Blood pounded in my head and my heart beat even faster in my chest. I scanned the horizon and notice it starting to flicker with crimson speckles of light. Hundreds of sinister eyes glared back in unison, silently conveying our deaths. Instantly wishing for a different turn of events.
We floated there anxiously; exhausted, stranded, outnumbered and blocked from our escape, i figured it couldnt get any worse? Right?. Maybe if I were a lucky man, but as usual the karmic forces of the universe work against me. When ever it can, and will, and always more than what degree of worse i think of. Just as i figured we could probably make one last stand, a hundred to one , managable odds. The ground beneath us violently split open and several mud geyser exploded into life! Spraying the muck and bog in every direction imaginable. Noxious gas clouded the air, making our mecha-suits toxicity sensors overload. The murky ground cover started to flow in small streams. Toward the speckled sea of crimson and the growing living mountain of darkness. All around us theswampy landscape groaned and shrieked in protest, as if the very life was being sucked out of it.
The soldiers were getting restless, and one by one, set their plasma bayonets a flame! Casting a fierce glow upon thecoming swarm of living night. As if in response to our battle cry, everything seem to stop. Like an eye of a storm, an unfamiliar calm settled over the coming battlefield, within a span of a few seconds all the speckles of eye light twinkled out and blackest curtain of night decended upon us. I breathed a few calming words on the comm, and held our position. The very next moment another blood curdling roar, echoed its presence, and three enormous eyes of crimson blazed into all its alien magnificence! The radiating heat alone had us rocking back, stealing our breaths! No less that five-hundred meters away, three demonic looking pupils focus their attention, and glowered in fury upon us. At that very moment, i did what any ones instincts would tell them to do... I ran!
Living shadows of some sorts with bodiless eyes of a brooding crimson and multi appendage forms. Able towield the very moonlight that ominously illuminates everything around us, as weapon and shield.Blinding greenish flashes that seem to rip apart the fabric of night, streaking down in sudden death,followed by surprised screams of anguish through our comms.. Then seamlessly vanishing back into the gloom about us. We've battled them off several times before. Each time loosing a portion of the squad. Suffering costly trial and error as we found our plasma bayonets and flash bombs were the only success thwarting the assailants. Tirelessly we marched on.
We received weak intelligence at best. Just a short week before in Cryo-sleep as we landed on the dark side of Targus. The second moon of Remos, the fourth largest planet of one of the main systems in the Gem-Eye Quadrant. Infamously known part of space for having endless caches of raw untouched mines of vast untold riches. Diamonds, ore, gold, utonium, you name it, it was there. We were a black raidercompany, commissioned for a simple search and recover gig. Drop and pop over to some lost probe beacon,and *caaaacching!* A years pay for a third of the time, heavier pockets are always a bonus! I figured it was about the "Spaced traversed" hence, why we were charging so much.
Previous expeditions were only sanctioned to go into the first twenty percent of G.Q.. Where it was explored and deemed void of all hostile life by the Marshalls' of Eminent. A bad-ass squad of royally appointed Terminators.And the next best thing was us, a group of mercenaries seeking profitable endeavors. without any legal bindings We were hired to travel about a fort-night deeper into the G.Q. unknown. With only the slightest probability of conflict. Previous scouting indicated a very small threat if any. Possible claim jumpers, rogue militants and/or some pirates. I prefer all three, it makes it all the merrier when they turn on each other in panic.
Hysteria would've been easier. Our predicament had me blinded with rage making me relish the moments where my subconscious replayed over the future dealings of my sweet revenge! Inflicting onto the fool who signed and approved the contracton this one. I should of known better when my instincts went ape-shit, on vague rumors of the night coming alive and the moonlight burning skin. Elaborate ghost stories meaning to dissuade any space travellers looking to score big on some undocumented dig site. What any of us wouldn't of paid out at that time for a little fore-sight into this hair-brained operation. Where we stood only a couple miles from the felled beacon. With rationed supplies and a low oxygen reserve.
Preparing for an inevitable clash from our vicious hosts. Highly aggressive up until then with guerrilla strikes and ambush tactics. We assumed the next one to be something a little of the same. But My instincts were starting to fire off on all sides and consider me a quick learner. The lunar night grew increasingly quiet, eerily still. The hair on my arms pricked out and wormed about my skin in the little faux gravity my suit created. The circle formed up in seasoned rhythm, shrinking in radius. As the chill of battle rippled through the remaining squad. The air tingled with anticipation and we slowed to an ankle deep relief in the trek. A long minute followed, slugging by as we steadied our breaths.
At first, I figured my heart that was racing to be the source, a low vibration from my feet, to a wobbling in the knees. Perhaps adrenaline to be the cause, of my stomach absently clenching and my back building with energy. I assumed the best until, my mecha-suit sensors registered the worst. A booming thunder rolled over us like a powerball stadium cheering with the force of thirty-thousand fanatics. centered just about a half a kilometer in the direction of, of course, our destination. My visor rattled under the sonar onslaught from some really freakishly huge, unknown. I almost lost my footing again, but oddly the mud held me up this time. I motioned a hand signaled to the front four, two on either side of me rushed into action, with a quick burst they took flight, followed by fire in rapid succession launching the flash bombs flying toward the faceless doom.
One popped a few hundred meters early, above a small copse of gnarled swamp trees. Melting away a part of the depth less night. A silent jab into the face of the heavyweight to come. After that, two popped within a couple seconds in between. One reaching a little farther than the first and then the third being closer to the distance my suit registered. Leaving the detonating area a tad lighter shade of greenish grey with another scattering of the moon night creatures. The final one, taking a graceful space roll-bounce about a hundred meters after, almost directly at the epicenter. Coming to rest into a small dip in the landscape.
An hour-like moment passed before the flash bomb blazed into glory. Revealing a ribcage-like form of what seemed to be a living mountain of swamp bog, murk and trees. A substantial mass of pure blackness pressing back at the flash bomb with noticable effort. Finally crashing down with an earth shattering force swallowing the light source whole. Making the rest of us instinctively take flight. Blood pounded in my head and my heart beat even faster in my chest. I scanned the horizon and notice it starting to flicker with crimson speckles of light. Hundreds of sinister eyes glared back in unison, silently conveying our deaths. Instantly wishing for a different turn of events.
We floated there anxiously; exhausted, stranded, outnumbered and blocked from our escape, i figured it couldnt get any worse? Right?. Maybe if I were a lucky man, but as usual the karmic forces of the universe work against me. When ever it can, and will, and always more than what degree of worse i think of. Just as i figured we could probably make one last stand, a hundred to one , managable odds. The ground beneath us violently split open and several mud geyser exploded into life! Spraying the muck and bog in every direction imaginable. Noxious gas clouded the air, making our mecha-suits toxicity sensors overload. The murky ground cover started to flow in small streams. Toward the speckled sea of crimson and the growing living mountain of darkness. All around us theswampy landscape groaned and shrieked in protest, as if the very life was being sucked out of it.
The soldiers were getting restless, and one by one, set their plasma bayonets a flame! Casting a fierce glow upon thecoming swarm of living night. As if in response to our battle cry, everything seem to stop. Like an eye of a storm, an unfamiliar calm settled over the coming battlefield, within a span of a few seconds all the speckles of eye light twinkled out and blackest curtain of night decended upon us. I breathed a few calming words on the comm, and held our position. The very next moment another blood curdling roar, echoed its presence, and three enormous eyes of crimson blazed into all its alien magnificence! The radiating heat alone had us rocking back, stealing our breaths! No less that five-hundred meters away, three demonic looking pupils focus their attention, and glowered in fury upon us. At that very moment, i did what any ones instincts would tell them to do... I ran!
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