I've been having a rough week, so while I'm "pretty sure" this Entry isn't too bitter sounding, I can't be sure. I'm tempted to suggest that I often sound hostile; if so, then there won't be any problem today.

So anyway...

While I'm embarassed to admit it, I do follow the livejournals and blogs of a few people. In one case, this is because it's the journal of one of my very closest friends and I feel I owe it to her to read; in most cases, though it's just morbid curiosity. It will not shock... well, anybody... to learn that I'm something of an elitist and a purist when it comes to writing and online publishing. The elitist in me is the part that prompts me to write all my own code by hand rather than use a site generator; I don't see how any self-respecting computer geek could do otherwise, and this is why I host this Journal on my own site rather than on some free journalhost. As a purist, though, I believe that writing should convey something of value to the reader. In the case of my own Journal, I bear no illusions about its mass-market appeal (ie, the dismal lack of it) but at the very least I know that I have a small group of readers who not only check back in every three days but also respond to my roll-calls so that I have some idea who's out there. These people don't follow the Journal just to be nice to me (or at least, that's not the only reason); they read it, so they claim, because it entertains them.

One factor in this is the fact that I don't just recite what I did every day. I may not type well, but at least I'm mispelling something of value.

Today, on a whim and with nothing better to do (and trying to get "Demon Island" (starring Nicholas Brendon; a demonic pinata comes to life and starts killing college students) out of my head), and while reading one of the few livejournals I find interesting, I decided to click on the "friends" link at the top of the page, which displays the most recent entries from that writer's friends. I won't name names, either whose journal I was reading or who it linked me to, but the fact remains that I was stunned. Stunned, and very, very bored.

Scott Adams has wisely observed that the success of the Internet can be directly attributed to the simple fact that people like to talk more than they like to listen; this was written before the rise of the blog but certainly hasn't become any less true. I think that webjournals are wonderful things because they allow people to talk... and talk... and talk... kind of like I'm doing, to be fair... regardless of whether or not anyone is listening. It has been wisely observed endlessly that psychological well-being depends on being able to talk (and vent) as needed, so webjournals obviously offer a valuable service to people.

This does not justify you thinking that what you had for breakfast today is interesting.

I have no objection to people maintaining journals. I have no objection to people filling their journals with play-by-plays of their day, even when nothing at all happens. I even accept, although it goes against my deepest principles as a writer, that journals might still have value even when they are very, very poorly written. But I simply do not have the depth of goodness in my soul which I would have to have to be able to look someone straight in the eye and tell them that I care who they spent yesterday playing videogames with unless that fact is part of something more significant. I can accept nearly every sin made by journal-keepers as long as they do not take for granted that their work is good.

The above comments are, as warned above, those of an elitist and a purist, and so perhaps should be taken as a grain of salt. On the other hand, at least I didn't spend the last hour writing about my day.

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I was asked recently, as classes near their end, how much money I would have to be given to participate in an experiment wherein I deliver painful experimental shocks to someone. The question was a joke -- several students in the honours thesis class had been discussing "evil" experiments in the history of psychology. The person asking was surprised (I almost wrote "shocked" but stopped myself) to discover that not only would I quite happily shock a hapless human for money, but my price was actually quite low... I believe I quoted it as being twenty dollars Canadian. What followed was a discussion of others things which I would be willing to do in exchange for money, power, or favours, and in nearly every case, I would have been quite willing to perform the task discussed for the right price. I couldn't always quote a price, mind you, but right up until "kill your best friend" I was able to honestly say I'd do it.

"There's a word for people like you," said the student.

"Yes, 'mercenary,'" I replied. "It was in the employee handbook."

Have you ever received blank stares from six people at once? It's a wonderful feeling.

I've always been a very big believer in the principle that people can be made to do nearly anything if the price is right. The price isn't always money, mind you... nobody wants to know the depths I would sink to if it meant getting real power... but a price exists, none-the-less, at which people will compromise their morals, scruples, ethics, and sanity. Generally, I don't even believe that that price is very high. Naturally, it must be added that this opinion stems from the twofold facts that 1) I have very few scruples and 2) I bear a genuine hatred for humanity as a species. It's certainly possible that, as a somewhat mercenary individual, I'm in the minority of sentients. But I doubt it.

Before anyone asks, I am *not* going to use this entry to post a price-list for myself. For one thing, it would be a waste of time, since no one is going to pay me the prices quoted. For another, the prices for these sorts of things shift, based on time of day, current mood, identity of target (where appliable) and, of course, person asking. For example, there are three humans currently alive who, for various reasons, I feel I owe enough of a debt to that I would agree to do things at their request which I would not do at anyone else's. By contrast, there are many people... quite a lot... who I would not outright refuse to do something for, but for whom the price would skyrocket. If you're going to already compromise your principles or do something you don't want to do, you aren't compounding the sin any by asking a higher price.

I feel that this is a particularly relevant topic for an Entry at this time of year, since as all but my very least astute readers will already know (and in most cases, consider themselves to be "painfully aware" of), this is the holiday season. Hannukah starts on December 7th at sundown, and Christmas is, of course, not long after. T'is the season to be jolly; t'is also the season to scam people for all they're worth. I do not decry either capitalism or commercialism, but the holiday season always gets on my nerves as people talk endlessly (kind of like I'm doing now) about what they're buying, who they're buying it for, and why they're bribing the person in question. It might be the season of peace and joy, sure, but it's also the season of mercenaries.

I'm not complaining, mind you. I just think it should all be out in the open, get rid of the hypocrisy and so forth.

The response that I expect to be first and foremost in people's minds is that since this is supposed to be the season of goodwill, this is actually the *last* time of year in which mercenary attitudes should be out in the open. This is a reasonable response, generally, but the logical flaw is that it rests on one believing that the holidays are the time to "be good towards one's fellow men", as the old saying goes. Not having any fellow men, I consider myself pretty well exempt from that sort of thing.

On the other hand, if anyone objects to these opinions, I'll happily change them for a very reasonable fee...

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I have spent many hours these past weeks pouring over textbooks and articles relating to the inventory and assessment of personality. I have studied the earliest theories of personality and articles printed this very week. I have copiled the central concepts from over thirty different personality assessment tools and ammassed a wealth of knowledge about factors and formats. At last, I am ready to unveil my latest work of brilliance, a brief questionnaire which will assess the personality of the participant, taking into account hundreds of different theoretical issues, and based on the small amount of data provided, determine the salient personality trait of the participant. Yes, this test will actually report to someone who uses it what the single most salient trait in their personality is at the time that they complete the test out of more than two hundred possible traits. I have calculated the error in this test as being less than 1%.

The G2 PT:
1: The universe is a primarily ordered system.
True False

2: There is no such thing as evil, objectively.
True False

3: There are no gods, spirits, or other intelligent cosmic forces ruling the world.
True False

4: Working hard is a better use of time than playing or relaxing.
True False

5: I'm usually so busy, I look forward to times when I'm bored.
True False

6: I communicate more non-verbally than I do by speaking.
True False

7: When people laugh nearby me, my first thought is that they are laughing at me.
True False

8: I like horror movies more than I like romances.
True False

9: I work best when listening to music.
True False

10: I rely on another sense, such as hearing or smell, as much or more than on vision.
True False

11: I believe in the paranormal, either as scientifically inexplicable phenomena or as phenomena which simply have yet to be scientifically explained.
True False

12: The way I would dress, if I could, would draw stares at best in public if I dressed that way tommorow.
True False

13: I enjoy painting, writing, composing, or some other form of art.
True False

14: I hope to one day be internationally famous.
True False

15: I am almost or more comfortable dealing with most others through computers than over telephones or in person.
True False

16: I think of my biological family fondly.
True False

17: The sight of fire fascinates me.
True False

18: I believe that I am very different from other people in one or more significant ways.
True False

19: I believe that this is a valid/reliable or accurate test.
True False

20: I believe that tests such as these are a valid use of time.
True False

Score my test (Opens in a new window):

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It came up recently in a conversation with someone that I've made occasional references to honour both in this Journal and in other places. This strikes some of my associates as a bit strange; apparently, at least based solely on my writing, I do not strike people as someone who would have much of a code of honour. I suppose that I can understand this mistake, considering that a significant portion of this Journal is about lying, cheating, and manipulating others for fun and profit, and these are not activities which fall into a traditional code of honour.

On the other hand, I have yet to meet someone who continued to preach about the importance of honour after disembowling themselves.

In actual fact, I do hold myself to a code of honour, which I have held to religiously since early in the existence of Eric 4.0 and which was well established by the time Eric 4.1 came online. This system of honour admittedly differs a great deal from many standard codes, particularly in two important ways: first, battle has nothing to do with it, and second, yes, dishonour *is* better than death.

We now present the quick and basic guide to Eric's Code of Honour: enough information to understand it but not enough to use it against him.

Honour, in this instance, is an ephemeral thing. One can conceive of it as a meter which floats above a person, which, by their actions and inactions, they cause to fill and empty. Actions consistent with a code bring a person honour, whether anyone knows about the actions or not; actions against the code detract from a person's honour, again regardless of whether or not anyone else learns of these actions. Honour is a personal thing, and depends upon a person who is honest with themselves, if not with anyone else. This system of honour therefore differs considerably from traditional forms, which often depend upon others knowing of an individual's great deeds for the deeds to mean anything.

Herein lies the first part of the code: only those who are honourable deserve to be treated honourably. The days when mere age made someone worthy of respect are long past; respect must be earned. Similarly, if a person acts dishonourably to one, then one, in turn, is under no obligation to respond honourably. In turn, once another has proven themselves worthy of respect and honour, then they must be treated with honour. They should not be harmed; they should not be cheated; they should not be deceived, if the truth is important ot them.

Deception is not dishonourable. To deceive others is neither a good or evil act and is neither honourable or dishonourable. The purpose and intent of a lie defines whether it is honourable; few lies are dishonourable when told to a dishonourable other. Similarly, an honourable individual makes promises freely and perhaps even keeps some of them; but when a promise is made to a worthy other, effort should be made to keep it, and if the word of honour and oath is freely given, then regardless of the honour of the one to whom the oath is given, that oath *must* be kept, or much honour is lost.

The honourable one accepts that honour is fluid; with all actions is the potential for honour to be gained or lost. It is to be expected that even the most honourable individual will sometimes lose honour; what matters is that honour is regained and honourable behaviour maintained. Some dishonourable actions will always be necessary; one small dishonour can be replaced by many large honours.

Similarly, throughout history, many have said, "death before dishonour." These people are stupid. When one dies, one can no longer earn honour, but if one lives, honour can, over time be replaced. What matters is that honour is replaced. To be dishonoured is not worse than death; to accept dishonour is worse than death.

Thus endeth the lesson.

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Today is November 22nd, 2004. This is a special day, when people throughout the nation and the world at large take a moment to mourn the loss of a great man and, in his memory, pause and consider the world we live in. We ask ourselves: what kind of world is this? who controls my destiny? what is the future of humankind? are they listening to me right now? what's that thing on my wall? is that a bug? oh god, they've got me bugged! they're listening right now! they're watching me! they're everywhere! somebody help me, there's no escape they're everywhere oh god they're beaming thoughts directly into my brain!

Today is National Conspiracy Theory Day.

Yes, National Conspiracy Theory Day, the one day of the year when you don't have to be paranoid delusional, but it sure helps. On the 41st anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy, people the world over take time to contemplate the world as a whole, the beauty and interconnectedness of all things, and the vast, faceless conspracies which keep it all running smoothly.

You see, without international conspiracies, the world probably couldn't function. You can be as much of a humanist as you want, but let's face it, people are stupid and the average person is not qualified to rule the world. There are some people capable of managing the planet, but there are vast systems in place to prevent me them from doing so. Instead, the world in run by vast international conspiracies which, though despotic at best and fascist at worst, do indeed keep the world from becoming a vast nuclear holocaust the likes of which have not been seen since ... well, ever, which just goes to show you what a good job these people are doing.

Some of my readers are probably expecting me to now write a bit about some of these conspiracies, perhaps outlining their major figures and goals. I will not, in fact, be doing so, and for very good reason: there's a reason we refer to these groups as secret conspiracies, which is, they're secret. Despite being megalomaniacal and Jewish, I am not a member of any of the world conspiracies to rule the world. I find this extremely galling, but I have learned to live with it.

So, on today of all days, we should all pause a moment, stop and think, and give thanks that our world is ruled by the faceless masters. They may be ambiguously evil, manipulative, spiteful, greedy, and unwilling to protect the world which they rule... but they're still preferable to the people who *openly* hold power.

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After entries fifty two and fifty three, I received a couple of comments, mostly from people who have only known me for a relatively short period (less than two years or so) expressig their confusion over why I would post an entry and then follow up with a critique of that same entry. One guess was that I was just taking the opportunity to make fun of the academic writing style; while this sort of thing was in the forefront of my mind at the time as I was writing the GREs in both General Analytical Ability and Psychology, the larger reason is that few people understand the great benefits of arguing with yourself. In addition to training you to stay on your toes when other people criticize you, and giving you practice for the inevitable times when you have to present two sides of an argument in an essay or speech, arguing with yourself is often just plain fun. To help illustrate this, today's entry features guest writers Roland "Foolsbane" Cantrel and Tan "Tan'El" L. who will discuss the issue so that I don't have to take the time to write anything.

Foolsbane: Thank you, Eric. It's a pleasure to be here, and I hope that both readers enjoy this discussion.

Tan'El: Likewise, although I think we might be the two readers.

Eric: So anyway?

F: Right, the debate. Which side am I, again?

T: I'm in favour of arguing. You're opposed. The chief reason in favour of learning to argue with oneself is that it opens up new ideas. Just as new vistas of imagination and theory can only be found when flaws in a current theory are pointed out, any argument can be improved by making a genuine and earnest attack upon it and then improving where the flaws are found. If the attack destroys the idea completly, then the idea didn't deserve to live; think of it as philosophical Darwinism.

F: I can't agree. Even if it was valid to assume that an idea whch is easily taken apart has no merit -- and I'm not agreeing to that, I just don't think it's the issue here -- then the idea of testing ideas to destruction is horrible. What about new ideas? You can't expect a fledgling theory to stand up to rigorous attack; it has to be protected and nurtured, given time to grow and develop. Ideas which might otherwise become cornerstones of thought would be lost under your system.

T: I would expect such thinking from one such as yourself; it shows weakness. If an idea is lost, it deserves to be. Ideas conceived of once will be conceived of again eventually; this has been shown throughout history through redundant inventions and the remergence of philosophies long thought dead. To put it bluntly, it is better that ten ideas are wiped away... temporarily, of course... than for one bad idea to survive. How many of the world's problems would be solved today if a bad idea had never gotten off the ground? Imagine four people sitting at a table, and one of them says, "so let me run you guys through this Apartheid thing I've been working on," or "you know, I think I'm the son of God," or "hey, while we're at it, let's invade Russia, too." If it had taken a few years longer to prove that relativity was valid, no harm would have been done.

F: I cant help but notice that of your examples, one makes no sense at all, one is blatantly anti-a-certain-religion-which-shall-not-be-named, and the last, if I'm not mistaken, would have meant victory in World War Two went to Germany. The first and last ideas are ideas which were tested and argued extensively, but based on the evidence at the time they were judged to be sound. That's the problem: it's rarely the bad ideas which get shredded in open debate, because too few debaters can be trusted to have an intelligent opinion.

T: True, which is why Darwinism extends beyond ideas. Societies filled with the unfit will eventually be supplanted by those which are fitter-

F: As long as the unfit ones don't vote in favour of nuclear strikes first, you heartless-

T: Slave of a powerless god-

F: Servant of Evil!

T: Weak fool!

F: Mad blackguard!

T: Deluded jewelery-wearing priest!

E: And so, since it seems that our guest debators will be resolving tonight's discussion with D20s, that'll be it for today. Thank you for tuning in, and come back next week, when Jerome Lauren and Gavlan Therreus will be discussing the merits of the Cult of the Divine Emperor with hollow-points at 30 feet.

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Little Running Gag
One of the most powerful of Ragon's Chosen, Little Running Gag was a hideous amalgam of a halfling's body and a dog's head merged with demonic essence and gifted with nearly unlimited translocative powers. Intended to be an assassin of unparalleled skill, Ragon's experiment went awry when Little Running Gag proved to have a child's intelligence and an unshakable pacifism. For several decades, Little Running Gag traveled the world, latching on to groups of adventurers and following them for years at a time. For days or weeks Little Running Gag would follow from a distance or stay nearby and invisible, only to teleport before the adventurers at unexpected moments and strike one or more with a pie mounted on the end of an arrow, always fired with unerring accuracy.

In the wake of Ragon's imprisonment, Little Running Gag's powers were weakened but the entity himself remained free and largely unaffected; he has continued to seek out and follow adventurers and is believed to currently be employed as a court jester in a small kingdom not far from one of Ragon's few surviving surface temples.

Razorfish
Razorfish the Icthyomancer was another early creation of Ragon's. A shark mutated into humanoid form and given the ability to spend short periods on dry land, Razorfish learned magic at the feet of one of the world's most powerful wizards, who at that time was serving a debt of service to Ragon, but despite a substantial innate talent Razorfish was tutored only in spells relating to sea life, giving it the dubious honour of being the first and only fish-based spellcaster ever to walk -- or swim -- the Prime Material. Razorfish broke away from Ragon's service and returned to the sea, becoming the bane of mariners for hundreds of kilometers of coastline. Razorfish was eventually tracked and slain by adventurers hired by fishermen Razorfish had been stalking.

The Collectoror
Ragon's first and last attempt at creating a librarian to catalogue his myriad projects and experiments, the Collectoror was a disgruntled scribe fired from his post by an ungrateful king who decided, upon ascending the throne, that the scrolls which had rested in the family library for generations were fit only to be burned. When the scribe objected, the king ordered his hands removed and that the scribe be left in the snows outside to feed the wolves. Ragon found the scribe near-frozen and restored him to health while also nurturing an obsession with protecting ancient knowledge and an obsessive hatred for the illiterate. The Collectoror was given new hands based on golem parts which included built in quills, ink, scissors, razors, erasers, chalk, and, just for the hell of it, a small flamethrower.

The Collectoror was left to manage Ragon's largest temple for several decades, working without sleep for months at a time cataloging magical tomes stolen from other libraries. Eventually becoming so unbalanced by his work that he lost all hold on sanity, the Collectoror eventually fled Ragon's temple to wreak havoc across the land, and the Collectoror left a trail of slaughtered peasants as he criss-crossed the land taking books, papers, quills and other writing-related materials from any humanoid he came across. The Collectoror was eventually found and put down by Ragon himself as punishment for leaving his assigned post.

Rasavin, King of the Dead
An untalented necromancer in a small kingdom, the mage Rasavin summoned Ragon by mistake in a botched ritual and, believing he had brought forth a demon, attempted to barter his soul for sorcerous power. Such an arrangement was perfectly to Ragon's liking, and the golem took Rasavin to be one of his Chosen.

Ragon's sorcery transformed Rasavin into a zombie-like creature without damaging his mind, and further experimentation granted Rasavin the ability to communicate mentally with any undead in his vicinity. Rasavin immediatly became one of Ragon's most valued servants, using his sorcery and mental abilities to raise and then command armies of zombies to rise and swarm over living defenders in sites which Ragon wanted to capture. Rasavin soon became the most feared villain within the region of a dozen kingdoms as entire cities fell before his unliving onslaught. It was a vampire cleric who eventually caused Rasavin's downfall, sweeping into the midst of Rasavin's encampment and dominating the zombies there to attack their animator. Rasavin discovered to his horror that his powers had allowed him to speak to the undead but not to actually command them; the unintelligent zombies had simply obeyed whatever message came into their minds from him. With an actual dominating intelligence guiding them, Rasavin's telepathic messages were ignored by the zombies, who tore him apart.

And I think that's all of them now. If anyone else thinks I've forgotten some of them Chosen, please feel free to remind me.

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The Ancient Secret Mysterious Secret History is a foolhardy attempt at rewritting history at best and an insane attempt at outright fraud at the worst. The author of the piece -- I hesitate to call it either a history or an essay -- surpasses his lack of knowledge about his topic by demonstrating his lack of knowledge regarding any other topic.

First and foremost in terms of flaws with the piece are the quotations interspersed with the "content." Ignoring the fact that the quotations appear without even the minimal citation needed for a persuasive piece, the quotes are so poorly introduced and linked to the text that one could scarecely imagine them as being meant to be at all persuasive. The reader quickly gains the impression that, in absence of anything to say to support his position, the article's author instead makes up his quotations on the spur of the moment. This is not out of the ordinary for the article, but is rather regretably indicative of the overall quality of the piece.

Next we address the basic premise that the school dates back thousands of years. While it is true that fighting styles in their current form do not go back as far as the article claims that his does, there is undeniable evidence that many if not most of the modern schools do, in fact, date back at least the four thousand years this author suggests. However, the suggestion that his school is that old is ridiculous; how could so ancient a school possibly have a name in English? The author demonstrates that his poor grasp of history is praiseworthy only compared to his grasp of geography, when he suggests that China is separated from Egypt by barren plains, empty mountains, and trackless deserts. Clearly, the author could not be bothered to so much as look at a map prior to writing such claptrap.

Here the author makes another inexcusible error: citing Ramses the Third as being Ozymandias. While Ozymandias (of poetry fame) is, in fact, thought to be Ramses III, the name did not begin to be ascribed to him until the middle ages, and it was not until the time of P.B. Shelley that the name came into popular use.

At this point in the narrative, an already poorly maintained coherence begins to slip away. The author includes a Hebrew slave and a priest of Discord in his story, when neither one could possibly have been involved. It is a matter of historical record that not one single Hebrew slave fled work in Ramses' reign, and as for the Erisian priest, what few actual clerics of Eris lived in Greece at this time were so far removed from Egypt as to have been incapable of making the journey south. While it is known that there was contact between the churches of Egypt and Greece, most notably in Plato's writings which imply that Socrates may have been a closet worshipper of Anubis, only the mpst powerful churches of Greece at that time (Zeus and Hermes) had the influence to send a cleric so far from "civilized" land. In addition, another inconsistency becomes apparent at this stage; the article's author makes no attempt to explain how a Chinese monk, a Hebrew slave in Egypt, and a Greek holy man all speak a common tongue. One might, conceivably, argue that both the Greek and the monk picked up enough Egyptian to be functional on their respective journeys, but even that idea would be nearly impossible to support against even the slightest logical thought.

From here, the article degenerates into utter nonsense; it loses all tense cohesion, ceases to follow any sort of either narrative or persuasive style, and the author seems incapable of recalling quite what his central argument was. The narrative becomes a poorly designed didactic piece, which... yes, what is it? Urk!

Transcription of a voice-recording found in the office of Dr. [name removed]. When investigating the doctor's disapearance, the incomplete dictation was the only clear evidence located. Forensic specialists have suggested that a second voice appears briefly on the tape while the professor speaks his last few words; assertions that the second voice can be heard to say "boot to the head" and that the voice is followed by a whoosh and a thud have yet to be confirmed by police.

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It is wisely written: He who strikes first, strikes last.

Students,
Contained within these ancient scrolls are the deepest secrets of that most feared of all schools of combat, Dancing on the Ceiling Style Kung-Fu. Learn well these stories, for the lessons contained within them are the lessons of the universe. And besides, they shall be on the exam.

It is wisely written: The finest art begins with putting pen to paper. Or perhaps with dipping pen in ink. Or maybe...

DotC style Kung-Fu dates back many thousands of years, long before most schools of martial arts had been founded. It is said, in the most ancient of scrolls, that a Chinese monk traveled across the vastness of Asia on a mystic journey, crossing the barren plains, and empty mountains, and the trackless deserts. The monk crossed every barrier known to the world save only for the oceans themselves in pursuit of an enlightenment he could sense but not explain, though his journeys took many years.

It is wisely written: What the hell was I smoking?

The monk's wanderings at last brought him to the land of Egypt, which none of his countrymen had ever seen. There, in the lands of Ramses the Third, who the men of Greece called Ozymandias, the monk stopped at a crossroads to seek shelter from the burning sun. At the oasis there, the monk encountered two others, each equally lost, alone, and seeking something inexplicable.

It is wisely written: When three men see each other across an oasis, so too shall their armies.

East of the pool was the monk; West of the pool was a Hebrew slave, fleeing from his guards; North of the pool was a Greek priest of Eris, seeking enlightenment by walking in the wrong direction. Each man sought peace; each man knew war; each man recognised the others as himself.

It is wisely written: Three wise men will agree if all three are the same man.

As the sun sank low and the desert cooled, the men spoke of their stories. As they spoke, their stories shared their lives; their lives shared their battles; their battles shared their souls. They spoke of how they thought, and how they lived, and how they fought, and how they hoped to die. As each spoke, they knew that their story was that of the men with them.

It is wisely written: Everyone in the world is entitled to my opinion.

In the morning, as the blazing sun rose, ten slavemasters came for the Hebrew, with chariots and spears. As one the three men stood, and as one they stepped forward, and as one they beat the living hell out of the slavemasters. For in the night, more than their stories had become one; so too had their fighting styles. Bronze swords and long spears were no match a fusion of Chinese skill, Hebrew strength and whatever the hell the Greek was doing. The slavemasters fled, and the three men looked at each other. Each gave an appropriate gesture of respect to others. The monk then turned, and walked East; the Hebrew turned and walked West; and the Greek turned in a circle, hopped up and down, invented the catapult, and took a nap.

It is wisely written: Oh, to hell with this, I'm going back to bed.

Back the monk traveled, across the desert and and mountains and plains. And over the long years of his journey, he used what he had learned from his night at the oasis to create a new and deadly school of combat. He named it a form of Kung-Fu, for that was the basis of his own skills. He named it dancing, for the Hebrew warrior had been everywhere and nowhere, moving with a fluid grace and beauty, striking his foes from every direction but seemingly elsewhere when they struck back. And he named it upside-down, for the Greek priest had been screaming about golden apples and hotdog buns as he fought back his attackers. When he returned to his monastery, he was the first master of Dancing on the Ceiling style Kung-Fu, and no other monk's skills could match his.

It is wisely written: A boot to the head is worth two in the bush.

The principles of the style have been passed down through the millenia and have evolved with the ages. No longer is it the exclusive purview of bald men living in mountains who have nothing better to do than kick each other. In modern times, it is equally a discipline equally available to hair-bearing men and women living in valleys and flatlands who have nothing better to do than kick each other. The style has evolved in many ways since it was first taught by master Richionnel Li to his students.

It is wisely written: The problem with many things is that they have a point.

As the school evolved, the first thing to be thrown away by the students was the style's usefulness. The students did not want to have to kick each other; they merely wanted to kick stuff. The style thus abandonned combat functionality in favour of looking cool. Second, the new students were young adults with hobbies outside of their schools who could not spend sixteen hours a day studying philosophy, and so the ancient, mystical wisdom of the masters of the style was abandonned in favour of telling students to believe whatever they already did, but more so.

It is wisely written: Give 'em what they want.

Today, what was once one of the most feared fighting styles of the world is a mostly forgotten discipline, practiced only by those more dedicated to learning the style for its own sake than for any practical gain whatsoever. Masters of the style are still numbered among some of the world's finest martial artists, and the school shall surely one day regain its prominence as one of the most respected and deadliest styles.

It is wisely written: It ain't over until it's... oh, wait...

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If you didn't find this entry interesting, go to hell.

To celebrate the 51st entry of this Journal (did you notice that it's been renamed, by the way?), I have decided to put up an Answer which I've been holding back on, just because it was fun to do so. For lack of anything more meaningful to post today, however, you get this one.

Early November of 2004 marks the one year anniversary of when I began purposefully using the phrase "be seeing you" instead of "goodbye." This has brought me considerable amusement for the last year; it amazes me, in fact, that the gag has yet to get old to me, although the people I spend time with have long since become accustomed to the unusual choice of words.

First off, where did the farewell come from? "Be seeing you" comes to us from the 1960's, during which time the phrase was a popular farewell in England's young-hip-and-not-too-bright crowd; while never becoming as big as the Beatles or mop-heads, the phrase none-the-less was a cultural thing for several years. It began to become more obscure and less widely used as time passed, but was none-the-less picked up by the television program, The Prisoner, which only my most well educated readers will be familiar with (sadly). In this TV show, characters used the phrase constantly, accompanied by a little salute. The salute was lifted from Christian mysticism, and was known as the Sign of the Fish. The salute in question involved making an OK sign with the hand (circle of thumb and forefinger, remaining fingers raised slightly) and holding the "O" up to the eye before moving the hand away from the face in a salute. This alone would not have been nifty enough for me to adopt the phrase (let alone the salute, which I also use). However, thirty years later, the creator of Babylon 5 (and one of the world's great geniuses, in my opinion) decided that one of the show's characters, the evil telepath Bester, would use the salute and farewell to taunt the characters around him.

The astute reader will have by now deduced how I came to become enamoured of the phrase.

Nowadays, I use the phrase because I think it sounds nifty, because other people seem to find it ominous, and because it's just one more little eccentricity I can have to my name. However, it's also one additional trick I get to play on those around me several times a day, and you lucky readers will now get to learn the great secret joke I play every time I say Be Seeing You.

When most people hear the phrase, they make the natural assumption: that it is short for "I will be seeing you." What we have here is a case of confused tenses. In reality, it isn't short for anything... it's the second person imperative, the tense wherein an order is issued to another. In effect, the phrase means "you will be seeing yourself." What this all comes back to is, of course, what I consider to be the most important question in the world, "who are you." Everytime I leave someone, I am telling them to see themselves between the moment I leave and the next time I see them. It is, after all, the one wish I have for everyone.

So there you have it... another great mystery solved and one more of my deep, dark secrets brought to light. Hopefully, all readers are now feeling suitably enlightened.

Be seeing you.

If you've found this entry interesting, mail Eric about it.
If you didn't find this entry interesting, go to hell.