Monday, 21 November 2011

Get your Rave on!

Saturday night, it's Rave time! Special Forces theme, and we're ready drop that heavy-ass bass.

First up, Dance Commander Velvet. Sexy, camo'd, and ready to bounce booty.

Here are some pictures from before the camo paint:





Of course, later in the evening, it was time to go devious desert camo...



Next, Trance Trooper Kyle. He's dedicated to dancing. Mind melting beats commence!




And, of course, Smooth Mover Chris. He's got the dancing genius...







Mission status: Complete. Successful collection of dirty beats; euphoric headspace achieved.
Next mission: Acquire new status: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KicVw7cYJ4k

Saturday, 5 November 2011

dnalrednoW ni ecilA: Through the Other looking glass.

Alice was, I believe, a perfectly normal human being with a vivid and slightly twisted imagination.

*You*, of course, could argue that if you look at some of the ideas suggested in the tales of Wonderland, you can read either the innocent, if confusing, dreams of an eleven year old child, or the hallucinogenic ravings of a maladjusted juvenile.

Let's walk through this mirror and see reality with a parallel scope. Of course, all of the following interpretations are tinted with the paint of my mind, and as such, I'm sure that you will find yourself making sense of these events in your own way.

We shall start at the place that all good stories start... at the beginning.

In the beginning, Alice was a sleepy young girl that was paying far too little attention to things that ought to have been thought about. Her cat, an innocently evil little fluffball named, of all things, 'Dinah', was apparently her sidekick in this miscellaneous muckery.
Alice, being the stereotype of petulant little girls who don't go to bed when they're told to, was very tired and fell asleep under a tree in the warm afternoon sun; although this fact is not apparent in the writing of the story, so as to make the reader question the reality of said events.
Later on, we may discover the fact that she got sunburnt and developed melanoma.



Now, we can assume one of a few things in this next part. Either Alice was dreaming that she saw a little white rabbit in a waistcoat with a pocket watch running to the hole in the tree or she was filled to the gills with hallucinogenics. In either case, that's precisely what happened, and dear little Alice decided to indulge her natural curiousity with no thought for the consequences.
I mean, really. Who jumps down a rabbit hole without a rope and some carrots to bribe the vicious bunnies?!

The scene at the bottom of the rabbit hole, that of a room with a table holding grow me/ shrink me drugs and a small door, is obviously some kind of reference to the idea that you can't get where you want to go in life without cheating sometimes.
That, or it was merely demonstrating how easily kids are tempted into taking drugs and thus we shouldn't leave our shrinking potions lying scattered around the house, in case they just happen to end up in a mysterious parallel universe, chasing a rabbit.

An important lesson here is that the grass always looks greener on the other side of the small enchanted door. Perhaps if Alice hadn't been so keen to escape to new pastures, she wouldn't have entangled herself in the curious happenings that followed. The question is, however, whether or not it was beneficial. Of course, if she had been a more organised sort of person that had given more forethought to the consequences of her actions, she may not have ended up ten inches high and swimming in a sea of her own tears.




It seems that Alice was a very unhappy little girl for the majority of this story; I choose to take this as a warning that taking drugs and chasing rabbits while wandering in the wilderness of your mind is a VERY BAD THING. This particular story is full of well meaning moral guidings. A good example is when Alice ends up being mistaken by the white rabbit for his housemaid, Mary Ann. She, the silly twit, doesn't correct him on the finer details of her true identity, and attempts to do the job of the maidservant. Alas, temptation appears in the form of a tiny bottle labelled 'DRINK ME'. Now, there are a few things about this situation that make it rather worthy of comment.

Firstly, a bottle that has any kind of directive label on it and is full of mysterious content is sure to be trouble. Secondly, let us take this anecdote as a caution against the vanity and dissatisfaction of self image. If Alice had been more content with the way she was, she would never have felt the need to drink. "I do hope it'll make me grow large again, for really I'm quite tired of being such a tiny little thing!".
Sadly, little Alice learnt the lesson of Regret as she found herself unable to handle the consequences of her decision. "That's quite enough-- I hope I shan't grow any more-- As it is, I can't get out at the door-- Oh I do wish I hadn't drunk quite so much!".
Enough said, really.

The little girl *did* have a fairly good idea when it came to purpose, however. When speaking with the frustratingly obtuse Cheshire Cat, she said "Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
To which the puss replied with a sensible "Well that depends a good deal on where you want to get to."
Now, Alice said next that she didn't care much where she wanted to get to; so long as it was _somewhere_.
This strikes me as a very mature response for such a young person, and perhaps something that is difficult for most people to grasp regardless of age.



Indeed, it is a question in the transient, arduous journey to seeking happiness: Will we be happy when we get to where we're going, or is it the journey that matters? Is it the destination, the goal fulfilled, the reward claimed that sates our need, our drive? Or is it the things that we experience on the way there, and the feeling of satisfaction that comes from merely moving, from continuing to walk to 'somewhere' instead of going nowhere?
However, in this case, we'll take a leaf from Alice's book, in which she states to the Mad Hatter "I think you might do something better with the time than waste it in riddles that have no answers."

Of course, after her encounter with this enigmatic man and the March Hare, Alice finally finds herself in the garden which tempted her into taking size altering drugs in the first place, which proves that you can, obviously, achieve your goals even when distracted, high, regretful and three inches tall, if you go 'somewhere'.



There are many other themes in this aphorism-laden story; things such as the power of authority, the wisdom of asserting one's boundaries when threatened (in Alice's case, with being beheaded,) and the importance of good sportsmanship in croquet.
The Duchess realised this, and indeed remarked to Alice as they strolled through the Queen's Garden arm-in-arm that "Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it."

I do find myself wondering if the King pardoning all of the executions ordered by the passionate-for-beheading Queen during the croquet game was a reference to the facade of rule and power of monarchs in England at the time (and indeed, now,) or if it was a more subtle allusion to the perceived 'madness' and impulsiveness of womankind in general, and the damage control initiated by men after the emotional bombshell has exploded.

Really, there's not much else. The story finishes with Alice's sister waking little Alice up, only then to drift into her own imaginings of strange alternate realities, the concept of which merely served to show her that life would go on as usual; that Wonderland was really with all of us, in our own minds, ready to serve up a good dose of abstract advice when we least expect it.





Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Awkward Dinosaur at Armageddon!


So, on Saturday I went to Armageddon. It was great! As usual, the costumes were fantastic, and the entertainment was entertaining.

Highlights for me were:

Hugging Elmo! (Picture above)

The Guild panel  on the Main Stage at 2pm

Hugging Sackperson (as shown below)

Buckets of mini donuts!

X Men bubblegum

Ninja Bears! Hyaaaaah!

I really love being able to just geek out in a large hall full of other geeks. Can't wait to experience something like DragonCon!


Monday, 12 September 2011

American Woman

So, you know how some women seem to attract sleazy guys? Two-timing scumbags? Sometimes a girl's lucky enough to attract an emotionally stable guy, or a guy obsessed with her.
I, ladies and gentlesaurs, attract Americans.

That's right. You heard me. Soda-pop-drinking, politically dualist, loud and usually 'entitled' masters of the bedroom, aka Americans.
The first time it happened, I thought it was a fluke; I'd never even met an American before DancingBear!
Still, there he was in his expensive Armani suit at the Britomart bus stop; Shaun, the Investment Banker.
He was from Boston, and he talked a mighty smooth line... Right into my panties.

Then there was the sexy, sweet talking saxophone player. He was from Tucson, AZ. He found me on OkCupid, convinced me that it would be a fantastic idea to catch a taxi at 11pm on a Sunday, so that I could... Chat with him,
Yeah, that's right. Sweet, passionate conversation. Well, apparently that wasn't all he had in mind!

After that followed cowboy Thomas, gamer geek Stephen, and Daniel, the tantra-practicing Californian dude with chocolate skin and a smile smooth as sarsaparilla. (Actually, I don't really know what sarsaparilla tastes like, but it was a good word!).

Soon, with my entrancing hypnosis skills and my talent in the bedroom, I will rule the world through the stray men of America. Those who dare to wander through Aotearoa and into my bedroom, or slip a message into my hot box on the site of Cupid's affirmation won't stand a chance against my oh so awkward feminine wiles.

Ah, America. The land of opportunities ^_~



Thursday, 28 July 2011

IRONY

No, not the adjective, in which one describes a taste.
"So, Carny, how's your man-snack 3.0?"
"The fat's really good, and I like the ribs, but he's a bit iron-y for me."

No, what I'm talking is about is when you experience or observe a situation that has incongruity between what is expected to be and what actually is.

Take, for example, an experience that occurred to DancingBear and I. Washing powder was spilt upon the tiles of the bathroom cave, and we tried to put it back in the box. Alas, it had mixed with hair and dust and dirt and was no longer useful for cleaning clothing. Shouldn't a cleaning product make the floor clean, instead of being made dirty by said floor?!

 There are many examples of irony; feeling tired because you've slept too much, or rain on your wedding day... To Ra, the Egyptian Sun God.

To me, irony is one of the funniest forms of funny out there and it happens every day, all around us.
And soooo... to another topic.


POLITICS.

Politics are full of irony. I've always considered myself to be on the political fence, leaning slightly to the left. I mean, I see advantages to both right and left wing Governments in New Zealand; they don't try to achieve the same goals, so you can't really say one is 'good' and one is 'bad' unless you're comparing them from a bias. I have, however, just taken a political map test that assures me that I am a communist/ libertarian bordering on anarchy. I'm situated in the exact spot where Gandhi and the Dalai Lama live.


So, with that in mind, how do I feel about the following question?

Q) Those who are able to work, and refuse the opportunity, should not expect society's support.

A) This is one of the more difficult questions I was asked. Not because it's intellectually tricky, or even because of the potential moral implications... I found it difficult because it asks me to sum up, in one single word (Yes, or No,) how I view other people and their actions regarding work, and makes me wield the power to decide what *they* (the people who are able to work, but refuse,) should or should not expect in terms of their rights and how they are treated as individuals and human beings.

Some of the things I thought about in answering this question were:
Do I believe that people should be punished, even passively, for taking an action or non-action on a collective basis?
What is my first, instinctual feeling about people that choose not to work but are able to?
How might I feel about this if I could not work, but would like to?
Who is viewing work as an opportunity? Is it an opportunity? Or an obligation? Perhaps a contribution?
What is 'support'? Is it money, paid by tax payers? Is it shared resources? Is it care and affection?

 So, in answer to the above, in order:
No, I do not believe in withdrawing support because of a lack of perceived input from society. I do, however, expect that if individuals want something out of life or of others, they ought to (in an ideal, utopian world) put something in.

My first instinctual feeling when I think about someone given the 'opportunity' to work but refuses to is that they are perhaps content. Content with their lives as they are, and unwilling to change or to expend effort in the goals of the masses.

It is possible that if I could not work, but would like to, that I may feel resentment towards this person. I may think that they are selfish, and lazy, and arrogant to think that they may partake of the fruits of society's good works... And yet, only to an extent. I would believe that any living thing has the right to the basics of life; food, water, shelter, love, oxygen, simply on the grounds of being alive.

I believe work is many things to many people. It is survival, it is a responsibility, an obligation, an opportunity and a contribution. Work is more than just having a job. Work is more than money, and it's more than a title, more than a trade. Work can be doing something you're afraid of, or something you don't like. Work is choosing to do one kind thing purposefully for another human being. Work is making children inside your body, healing torn ligaments, and creating art. Work, in my humble opinion, is anything we do that we consider worth doing. It is our mana made tangible.


All in all, it is my thought that society has become a machine, with large parts reliant on corporations and Governments and those brave people that stand up and let their voice be assertively heard and recognised across the globe. We are all expected to be part of it, in the broad view of 'society', a working, efficient piece of the automaton that keeps everything on time, moving forward, productive.

I do not believe that every person is needed for this machine. I do not believe that it is for every person that they fit within the realms of what is acceptable and expected for the masses. My answer to the person that has that job opportunity and refuses it?
Seek your dreams, find your place, and be content in the knowledge that we have ours.