I am, I'm told, difficult to shop for. This is a flaw which has an astoundingly small impact on my life the vast majority of the time, but which, during the holiday season, tend to cause people around me a little stress. The vast majority of people I know have no desire to buy me gifts, and rightly so. Of the seven or so people who do, out of duty or genuine care, two are more multiple holidays behind on giving (which doesn't bother me any but seems to make them feel a little guilty), two others wisely just ask me ahead of time what kinds of things I'd like, and one has spent the last however many years trying to come up with the "perfect gift" only for me to typically deduce what he's bought before ever seeing it (or for it to just be something I have no interest in). Being that I don't get excited by things easily, I'm a hard person to shop for pretty well by definition... there's a lengthy list of Stuff That Must be Mine, but most people are uncomfortable asking what's on such a list, and since it's mostly pretty obscure (particular figures from the original Transformers, for example, or the hard-to-find Shadow Sentient from the Babylon 5 toy line) I don't expect people to just guess any of it.

It's all exacerbated by two facts: I'm very clever and I don't feel much emotion. When someone gets really excited about a gift they've found, for anyone and not just for me, they tend to let slip a lot of little clues. When they refuse to discuss it at all for fear of letting out some clue, the bigger problem is that I just have a hard time getting excited about things. Anybody who's been in my room knows that there's no shortage of material goods that I take pleasure in calling mine, but it's an ecclectic sort of collection and the sucess rate for people guessing things to add to it is... well, abyssmal. I'm a relatively wise individual, of course, and I genuinely value the fact and thought of a gift more than the gift itself, but apparently this all leads to some measure of stress in people who are trying to shop for me or otherwise trying to do something nice.

Ironically, I myself and pretty good with gifts, I'm told. I don't read people well and I have tremendouis difficulty catching hints that humans apparently find quite obvious, but I do one thing which is highly unusual in most humans and in males of my age in particular: I listen. When people talk about the things they'd like, I actually pay attention, and often, I remember. I'm funny that way. I'm also very good at making cognitive leaps, and so a few scattered and unrelated thoughts have a tendency to, at a moment's notice, come together into unique ideas. Finally, I've always had a bit of a knack for finding stuff on the internet; like Dirk Gently, I may not always find what I'm looking for but I'll almost always find what I need to find. It is, to be a bit trite about it, a gift.

Fun Fact of the Day: The word "trite" is derived from the same Latin root as, among other words, "throw." The root itself is the Latin word for "to rub." This is for reasons which are utterly beyond me and would probably drive you mad if you knew them.

So anyway...

This holiday season is actually going to be the least gift-giving one I've had in a long time. My family traditionally just tells each other what they'd like and then we make it all happen as a group, which is rather easy. Outside of my immediate family, there's only two people on my gift list this year, and both of them have given me strict orders, under threat of pain and guilt, not to get them anything. Normally, I'd ignore such an order, but this year features some extenuating circumstances, and anyway, I haven't had any really clever ideas. I could *get* some clever ideas, that being rather a strong point of mine, but there are few things more frustrating than having a truly nifty idea and being unable to follow through on it. If I can avoid thinking about creative gifts, I can usually keep from thinking of any, which according to the Pink Elephant Rule means I really ought not to be typing this sentence.

Damn it... right on cue: muse attack. Malcolm Reynolds action figure, set up in diorama, shooting a barbie doll through the head. All materials already in hand or available within 16 days via eBay. Approximate cost, including shipping and handling: $12 CDN and 2 hours of modeling work (plus time for the paint to dry). But if I actually try to build it for her, she'll kill me. Some days, it's tough to be creative.

By the same logic which makes me hard to surprise, I'm also difficult to disappoint, but this seems to rarely make the people around me feel much better. I tend to really like the gifts I'm given, as a general rule, but it's amazing how many people just assume that they've let me down when they give me something. I also don't tend to get put off when people don't give me anything, because I usually haven't done anything for them, either, and they don't owe me anything special beyond friendship and respect. In those few cases where people feel a justified desire to give me gifts... somehow, some of the people closest to me in the world have found themselves three or four gift-giving-days behind, which upsets them more than it does me. Being an entity both with a minimal respect for holiday and tradition and who measures schemes and plots by the decade, I don't get impatient or disapointed, and again, try to reassure people of that, but mere words do little to assauge guilt, a fact that Judaism is practically built upon.

Anyway, here's to another low stress holiday season -- on my end, at the very least. I shall now go play with my Mister Flibble handpuppet (Stuart, of course, has always been quite good at picking the right gift for me, but he's had more years to practice) and then I've got a holiday party to get ready for. It might just be, in fact, a wonderful time of the year. For anybody not trying to buy me gifts.

I found myself diabolically tempted to make today's Entry more definitions, but decided that, as I'd promised to write something different today, and today actually being one of the niftydays of my calendar, I'd write about that instead. You aren't off the hook, though... unless I'm feeling uncharateristically merciful, I may yet subject you to more definitions on the 26th. You may think of this as my little homage to the Dread Pirate Roberts, or you may not... It is not my place to say what you are thinking, or, indeed, if you are thinking. It's an ontological question and therefore not one I would consent to touch with a standard-issue proverbial pole.

So anyway...

T'is, as they say, the season to be jolly. I don't know who "they" is -- I can't recall having ever heard an actual living human say those words -- but none-the-less people do insist against all logic that it is so. I don't believe that I know a single person... and I'm including quite a number of denominations into this... who is jolly at this time of year simply because it is this particular season. If I were a follower of That Other Religion, I might feel differently, but Hannukah is only a fairly minor festival, Agnostica is more a hobby than a holiday, and Game Day doesn't require much in the way of celebration. The Silinists have long-since planned ahead for such things, obviously, because "be prepared" is a motto which is wasted on boyscouts, who frequently leave home without a single cyanide capsule.

December 23rd is Happy Things Day. Yippy skippy. I, for one, am indeed happy today. I have my things which make me happy, and I am, in turn, a happy thing. This is my day. It is also a day for my things, presuming they continue to make me happy. Circular logic makes me happy.

There isn't really anything interesting to say about Happy Things Day. When the Imperial Calendar was being built, even before such days as Topin Wagglegammon and What the Heck Is That Day were added, we who schemed knew that we needed to have our late-December holiday, simply because almost everyone else does. That people have holidays in December is simply a fact of life in Western society, whether that holiday is Christmas, Hannukah, New Year's Eve, Hogmanay, Dress Like Nicola Tesla Day, Hogswatch Night, Pour Cold Water in your Neighbour's Car Locks Night, or any of the plethora of special events which I may or may not have just made up. There's tremendous peer pressure for most people to celebrate *something* in late December, and even for those like myself for whom there are very few genuine peers, one tends to begin to feel left out. Humbugging is all good fun but eventually the frown starts to grow dull.

Happy Things Day is, quite simply, a day to celebrate happy things: things which are happy, things which make you happy, things which make other people happy, people who make your things happy, things people use to make other people happy, people you treat like things to make other people happy... the permutations are endless, and anything which s unecessarily confusing is worth celebrating. It's distinct from days such as Topin Wagglegammon, which also venerate the happy-making things in our life, in so far as that Topin Wagglegammon is all about silliness and humour whereas Happy Things Day is just about happy things and is therefore a much more simple day. Topin Wagglegammon requires scheming, preparation, and five-pound cookies baked into the shape of Edward Norton, whereas on Happy Things Day, we just sit back, relax, and schplaaauuugh. My Happy Things Day is being spent relaxing, watching movies, maybe eating some cookies, possibly painting a miniature if I get around to it, and tonight, seeing my friends for a concert... nothing complex, contrived, or even overly special, but lots of things which are happy-making.

It is not coicidence that Happy Things Day is scheduled just post winter exams for most celebrants and right on time for holiday vacations for most others; these are all things which tend to make people happy. I'm certainly happier today than I was on the 21st.

Finally, Happy Things Day has evolved somewhat in the last few years. When it was first conceived, Happy Things Day was the second of two days of holiday -- the 22nd of December was Sad Things Days, wherein one contemplated lots of sad things so that when Happy Things Day came about, it would seem that much sweeter. It was celebrated that way for a few years but nobody ever put much effort into Sad Things Day, very few people actually wasted time contemplating anything sad, and most people generally agreed that, in the first place, having a day set aside for sad things was rather counter to the principles of the Empire and its calendar in the first place. Sad Things Day was officially struck from the Calendar years ago and, as far as I know, has been basically forgotten and ignored since. There';s more than enough sad days in the rest of the calendar without scheduling one special.

So happy holidays, everybody out there who I like, and may you be accidentally evicerated by your neighbour wielding a rusty weed-whacker, everybody who I don't. I hope you all have a lovely Happy Things Day -- in fact, since I'll be seeing most of my readers before midnight tonight, I'll be able to actively work towards doing something to make you happy -- and may the day be followed by many other holidays you enjoy celebrating, especially if I've been invited to the party.

Appraise:
The art of determining the value of an object by a careful examination of its condition, features, quality, and artistic merit, and then raising or lowering that price as the situation demands.

Balance:
1: The physical sense which allows one to determine up from down, the better to ensure they continue to be where they ought to in relation to one's head and feet.
2: The metaphysical sense which allows one to follow a path of moderation, reasonableness, and care, and is consequently of minimal use to most sentients.

Bluff:
A brief statement, action, or attitude which attempts to persuade another that a fact which is false is true, distinct from a lie in that there is some form of gambling involved.

Climb:
The act of ascending a surface by manually locating hand and footholds upon or by similarly using the force of friction to ascend a surface one is is physical contact with. Proper usage should specify "climb up" or "climb down" as one does not necessarily predict the other.

Concentration:
1: The ability to focus cognitive resources on an act, goal, or idea for an amount of time proportional to its complexity.
2: The amount of a solute relative to a solution in a mixture of two chemicals, which may cause significant modifications to (1).

Decipher:
The act of decoding an obfuscated message, translating a foreign message, or reading a poorly written message.

Diplomacy:
The art of persuading an individual that a thing which might possibly be true is true, or that a thing which is in your best interests is also in theirs.

Disable Device:
The science of finding Stuff What Works and making it into Stuff What Don't Work Anymore. Variants of this science call for either fine, specialized tools or large, unspecialized hammers.

Disguise:
An article of clothing, makeup, or behaviour intended to make one appear to be anyone except who one actually is. Derived from the Olde French, literally "this costume."

Escape Artist:
One who has made an art of escaping from bonds, opening locks, crawling through narrow spaces, and sliding out of nooses, often under considerable time pressure.

Forgery:
1: The act of creating an illicit copy of an object, pattern, signature, or other proprietary image.
2: The copy itself.
3: The act of creating a cup of coffee using grounds other than that which someone normally would which is indistinguishable from the normal cup.

Heal:
The act of repairing an individual who has been damaged, hurt, weakened, or otherwise violated their warranty.

Hide:
The art of Not Being Seen, comprised of concealing oneself behind a non-obvious piece of cover and then not standing up.

Jump:
The act of going from "on the ground" to "slightly above the ground" for a period of time too brief for it to qualify as "flying."

Knowledge:
Catch-all term of any given area of facts which are known, can be known, might possibly be known, or one could passably pretend to know.

Listen:
The act of hearing with the addition of paying attention.

Move Silently:
Sneak pretentiously.

Perform:
Any act in which, in front of an audience of at least one other, one attempts to complete an artistic, arduous, or in any way impressive task, and succeeds.

Profession:
1: A calling requiring specialized knowledge and often long and intensive academic preparation.
2: All the people employed in such a calling.
3: A confession which may be summed up as "I know more than you do."

Search:
The act of actively examining, opening, reading, feeling, and otherwise attempting to derive detail from an object, place or thing, typically with the intent of then taking things.

Sleight of Hand:
The art of moving one's hands very quickly and dextrously with the intention that actions performed with them will not be seen, observed, or appreciated by anyone watching. Widely practiced by card players, magicians, pick-pockets, martial artists, and students.

Spellcraft:
The science of studying magic and mystical phenomena from a rigorously scientific perpsective despite all common sense.

Spot:
1: The art of seeing something important without keeping an eye out for it specifically.
2: That little dab of stuff over there.

Swim:
The act of engaing in any of a variety of physical maneuvers with the intent of not drowning, or at the least not sinking, and one of the few activities which is not facilitated by a full suit of powered armor.

Tumble:
The art of falling on purpose in such a way that it hurts less and, as an added bonus, also moves you somewhere.

Use Magic Device:
The art of picking up an obviously magical implement and pushing button or yelling command words until it does something, and surviving, briefly.

Well, you've survived the first two of four. Cheer up, the worst is yet to come.

Academics:
The semi-mythical environment wherein life and death depends eclusively on one's ability to move great quantities of paper at considerable speed, and be able to explain small segments of it (or appear to be able to). Distinct from beuraucracy only in the need to understand the contents of some of the papers.

Computer:
A large, electronic box which, through the fluctuation of tiny switches to either "open" or "closed," a variety of functions can almost be performed.

Finance:
The science of how and why money moves from one pocket to another pocket and how the largely fictional bulk of sociey's money can be kept in circulation despite not actually existing.

Investigation:
The art of locating, tracking, identifying, and otherwise finding things which have either been lost, hidden, misunderstood, misinterpreted, or otherwise obfuscated, often in the face of the things in question not wishing to be found.

Law:
The series of rules, regulations, mores, and guidelines which delineate the limits which a society has imposed upon itself, the breaking of which is typically backed up by various penalties of varrying severity. Often constructed primarily to protect those who create the laws from those who do not.

Linguistics:
The science of learning to speak as many languages as possible to a passable degree and be able to explain how and why each is different from the others.

Medicine:
The science of making people not die in the face of a variety of things which really ought to have killed them already.

Occult:
Catch-all term for the study of things of an apparently supernatural nature which are really just poorly explained or, more commonly, fake. Derived from the latin, literally "I can seeee you..."

Politics:
The field of human philosophy concerned with governance of people and convincing them that they like it. Derived from the greek polis, literally "city" and icthyo, literally "fish."

Science:
1: The branch of human knowledge which concerns itself with understanding if a thing works, how it can be made to work, why it works, and how it can be made profitable, sometimes in that order.
2: Ironically, the state of knowing information about something.

Political Science:
The branch of human philosophy which concerns itself with the meta-philosophy of politics, specifically if it works, how it can be made to work, why it works, and how it can be made profitable, sometimes in that order.

Animal Ken:
1: The skill of being able to make an animal do what you want as opposed to what it wants.
2: The ability to intuitively understand what an animal is thinking before it eats you.
3: Unreleased figure from the "Halloween Barbie" toy line.

Crafts:
Catch-all term for anything built by hand which incorporates careful and thoughtful construction but which is devoid of "arts."

Drive:
Verb:
1: To make an animal or vehicle go somewhere, rather than just kind of sit there looking foolish.
2: To give it some measure of deliberate direction after it starts moving.
3: To make it stop again without the expedient of a wall.

Etiquette:
The science of being pretentious if and only if one is in circles where it will be appreciated and reciprocated.

Firearms:
Catch-all term for any portable device which deals grievous bodily harm by the mechanism of making a solid or energetic projectile move from a launching mechanism to the inside of a person or thing.

Melee:
1: Verb: To fight using weapons in a manner which suggests one has actually picked up such a wepaon in the past.
2: Noun: A complex and chaotic fight involving multiple combatants who are not entirely sure who they ought to be hitting.

Performance:
A situation in which one makes a minimally sucessful attempt to perform any sort of active artistic endeavour for an audience.

Security:
Catch-all term fo any system in place to keep people from entering an area, taking a thing, or seeing what they oughtn't.

Stealth:
The quality of a thing which is hidden, concealed, or difficult to see while moving or doing Stuff it's not supposed to be doing.

Survival:
The act of attempting to perform other actions in any hostile environment and not die.

Cloak:
1: A garment which consists of a cape and hood and which serves multiple purposes, including but not limited to sheltering the wearer from the elements and concealing the wearer from sight.
2: A technological or magical device used to render a user invisible or undetectable.

The next few days are rather busy for me, as I study extra hard for my pre-holidays exam. Writing an Entry can take me anything from fifteen minutes to several days depending on a variety of factors, so prepatory to exam time, I sat down and wrote no less than four Entries I could use if I don't have the time to write anything clever between now and the 21st. The good news is you suffer no risk of missing out on the joy of reading my brilliance no matter how busy I get trying to learn the difference between the pudendal artery and the inferior vesicular artery. The bad news is, unless I think of anything that not only do I have the strong need to wirte but is also time-sensitive or unusually topical, for today and the next three Entries after, you get to read more definitions from the Gamers' Dictionary. Whether you gasp in glee, awe, or terror at the prospect isn't really my problem.

It will be immediately apparent to about three people where I took the words for these four Entries from, but to save the rest of you the suspense, today's Entry is all the Talents from a Vampire: the Masquerade character sheet. On the 14th you get the Skills, and on the 17th you get the Knowledges. Just for variety, on the 20th, you'll get the skills off of a D&D 3.5 character sheet, with a few ommited because they're redundant. I've tried to add a couple of things to each day inspired by abilities rather than simply defining them. Then, on the 23rd, I'll presumably have run out of definitions to subject you all to, so I'll have to find something clever to say about the holidays or something.

And if you all think *this* is painful, just wait until you see a full 10-Entry series I'm thinking of writing in January... or maybe February, since January will probably have other fun stuff for me to write about.

So anyway...

Alertness:
The quality of being aware of the ball before it strikes you in the head.

Athletics:
Any and all forms of physical activity involving, variously, competition, endurance, scoring, stylistic movement, pain, and humiliation on national television.

Brawl:
Verb: To fight without using weapons, generally by flailing one's fists and hoping to hit someone on the opposing team.

Dodge:
Verb: The much-sought after talent of transitioning from "the place where the rock is about to be" to "just off to the side of where the rock is about to be."

Empathy:
The quality of understanding how another person feels and being able to imagine feeling as they do. The quality of being able to see another's pain (and either call, fold, or raise them angst).

Expression:
1: The ability to express one's innermost thoughts in a manner which others can intuitively understand and empathize with.
2: The ability to express one's innermost thoughts in a manner which only highly ediucated people can intuitively understand and empathize with.
3: The ability to express one's innermost thoughts in a manner which nobody can intuitively understand and empathize with, and if they claim that they can then they're just poseurs.

Intimidation:
The skill of being able to persuade someone you are going to do something very nasty without you having to do it.

Leadership:
The quality of being able to get people to do Stuff just because you're the one who told them.

Streetwise:
1: A recognized form of intelligence wherein one can understand and utilise the complex social structures of underworlds, gangs, neighbourhoods, playgrounds, and sandboxes.
2: Knowing what street you live on.

Subterfuge:
The quality of a thing which is subtle, hidden, or midirected. Derived from the German, literally "under the fudge."

Tarkin:
Verb: To rule by fear of force rather than force itself; to intimidate through direct and unsubtle means.

Canadian federal elections are in the very near future. Unsuprisingly, many of my more politically minded associates -- none of whom actually read this Journal, to my knowledge -- have been ardently discussing who they plan to vote for and why. Some of them have even been foolish enough to ask my thoughts on the matter.

It sometimes surprises people that I take so little interest in national politics. I often write about my interest in political science, after all, and I frequently discuss (and argue) political theory with people. I also intend to someday rule this planet, which will necessitate some politics. I do indeed have a keen interest in politics in theory. On the other hand, I also have an interest in quantum mechanics, but I don't read textbooks about it in my spare time. Canadian politics, and in my mind most real world politics, is rather silly at best and futile at worst. This is based on a number of factors and assumptions which i know aren't true for other people, but that's pretty typical for me.

The Canadian political arena is, from my point of view, a functionally two-party system; the various smaller parties are not there because they have a shot at winning, but simply so that the party higher-ups can see their name in the newspaper and not have to work for a living. We basically have our middle left wing party (currently in power and about to be ousted because of corruption and gross incompetence) and we have our right wing party, which is miles to the left of any meaningful American left-wing party, which would like to be in power but is, in my opinion, headed by very stupid people. Given the choice, I would probably vote for one of the smaller, even more leftist parties, but only because I don't want to vote for any of the really big and stupid ones; the trouble with this plan is that when I vote, i like voting for someone who actually has a shot of victory. it's a vicious cycle.

It is further worth taking note of the fact that the fact that many people use the same logic as me is precisely *why* the small parties have no hope of victory. If everybody who didn't vote just because they knew their party would lose voted for that party anyway, it would stop being a small party is very short order. Sadly, there's no organized way to get us all to vote the same way, which is why the larger and dumber parties keep winning. This logic is true in most areas of life.

Consider the current government. It is sufficiently leftist for my interests and has passed lots of legislation I approved of, while blocking lots of legislation I disaproved of. On the surface, this may make them appear competent. On the other hand, the party is basically entirely corrupt, is staffed priarily by civil servants rather than politicians, and has been in power for over a decade and accomplished almost nothing of note. I couldn't care less if they're corrupt -- I take it as a given that all leaders will be, given that corruption of government predates the invention of government itself. I can forgive corruption as long as it's moderate and doesn't interfere with the running of the state, and if I was in power, I'd probably line my pockets, too. The lack of activity, on the other hand, is unforgivable in my mind. Every campaign promise they make may look reasonable, but if you're left asking "why didn't you do this six years ago" then it all sounds rather hollow. At the very least, the outgoing party has no business sounding indignant about things not being done... they ought to sound apologetic and hopeful that they can fix things given a bit more time.

I am, of course, totally opposed to political parties in general. Give someone a chance to be a part of something greater than themselves and before you know it they're dedicated, efficient, self-sacrificing, and seeing anybody from another faction as the enemy. This is good to have in your enemies and downright fun to watch in the case of many religions, but in the political system, it means people vote because of party affiliation and not because of , say, sensible law-making. In the Empire, I have openly opposed the creation of political parties every time the dicssuion comes up because I favour independent (and indepoendent thinking) candidates who will support or oppose things based on thought rather than faction. This works just fine in a nation of 50 people where the entire government consists of 13 people, pretty much all of whom feel the same about most issues anyway. The system obviously becomes more difficult in a nation like Canada where the parliament consists of hundreds of members, and the whole process of governing becomes much more unpredictable and uncontrollable if you can't predict how most of the candidates will vote ahead of time. On the other hand, given the current state of government where values and identities are defined by where you sit, I think a little chaos might do the system good.

So, come election time, I haven't decided yet if I'll vote for the ougoing and corrupt party that's passed a few good laws or vote for the party I have some actual support for but which can't possibly win. That's assuming I vote at all, of course, since the election will be held on a school day and I don't know if I'll feel able to be bothered to go and vote in the first place. I have no shred of patriotism whatsoever in my soul, and I also have no desire to express my dissatisfaction with the givernment through voting because, not only am I not really dissatisfied, I also don't think anybody who deserves a good smack will ever receive one just because I vote for another party. In fact, the more I think about it, I think my inability to just smack my political leaders may be the root of my dissatisfaction with the electoral process in the first place. If all else fails, I'm sorely tempted to just write my own name in on the ballot, although given modern technological counting systems, nobody will ever know if I do. Stupid country.

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So anyway...

Today's Entry sets down in text, and once and for all immortalizes, something that I should have long ago made concrete, especially given my memory. What follows will be familiar to only one of my readers, who I hope will be smiling as she goes through it. From the rest of you... well, to be honest, I'm kind of hoping that I'll get called a monster for this one, but if you smile too, that works just as well.

After writing the Entry about simony a few weeks back, I've found my thoughts drifting back to the last days of my time in grade 10. This was a good time in my life, surrounded by some of the best friends I've ever had, just prior to the depressed period I entered in grade 11, at the top of most of my classes, and at the earliest stages of recreating the Empire from the ground up. I was taking a class on media literacy with a lady who ended up being one of the finest teachers I ever had. For this class, students created videos wherein they tested various products and compared what products other students used or didn't use. Most of the students did nice, harmless products... I remember being asked by my classmates to comment on what shampoo I used, what my favourite clothes brands were, and so forth. That was fine for the mundanes, but even in the late days of Eric 3.0, I held myself to a higher standard than that... this was, after all, the same year of my life in which I attempted to get a hand-puppet elected school president. We looked at toys. We stood outside stores and asked people what they were buying; we examined the pros and cons of various popular products; and, naturally, we tested durability. Specifically, we tested flame-resistance. More specifically, we tested flame resistance of products we had every reason to assume would have none.

I vividly remember the screams and cries from the audience when we played this video in class. It was a moment of transcendent beauty.

The bulk of the toys we examined weren't very interesting, and in point of fact I've forgotten almost all of them. What stands out in memory, and what, by the grace of Forsteri, I hope never to forget, was the teddy bear. We procured a lovely, charming, and adorable teddy bear, almost care-bear-ish in its sweetness. It had soft, downy purple fur, a lovable face, and one of the most marvelous smiles I've ever seen on a toy. It was, as stuffed toys go, an exemplary piece. We set it on fire.

Before I go any further, let me just say that, as a rule, I love stuffed toys. My most prized possession in my raggedy andy doll from my childhood which I love as much today as I did back when it was with me in my crib. I keep it, and two others, in a place of honour in my room, and even among all of my beloved Stuff, I make a point of seeing them each day. I never outgrew sleeping with stuffed toys -- I was forced to stop having my andies in bed because as my sleep difficulties grew worse over the years I would severely damage them overnight. Even today, on really bad nights, I'll sometimes get down the most expendable of the three and keep it next to my bed to make me feel better, and when I really need to cuddle something, I have my life-sized stuffed penguin, which I get quite a lot of use out of. I dare say I'm the only person in my medical school class who studies steroid biochemistry with a textbook under one arm and a stuffed penguin under the other. I firmly believe that stuffed toys are one of humanity's finest inventions. My love for them, however, would never stop me from lighting one on fire in the name of science. Or in the name of a cheap laugh.

We didn't just light it on fire, of course... that'd be too fast and not at all interesting. Any moron can light something on fire; an artist of destruction never stoops to something so easy. What we did was burn it from the inside out. We made a small incision in the back of the bear, just wide enough for a candle, and put a small flame right into the center of the bear. The we put the camera in front of the bear and waited.

I apologize to my readers if the passing years have dulled or twisted my memory of what came next; understandably, nearly a decade later, I may no longer have all of the details quite right. If it makes you feel any better, for all most of you know, I could be making this all up on the spot and then *all* the details are fictitious. At least if I'm remembering a real event falsely, *some* of the details are correct.

I remember that nothing much happened at first -- we thought the candle might have gone out in the relatively airless stuffing. We were patient, though, and dedicated to our art, so we waited. After a short time, someone suggested that they thought they saw a small glow visible through the material of the bear's stomach, and some smoke was visible coming from the back... we were satisfied the flame had caught, and we waited for the results. A bit more time passed; the bear's stomach was now sivibly glowing, a surreal sight in and of itself, and more smoke was coming from its back. The glow continued to brighten beautifully for some time... I remember being surprised at how long it was taking... and then the area in front began to smolder. The first eager licks of flame began to sprout from the front like the first flowers of spring emerging from the white ground. With great suddenees, great flames burst forth from its belly and from the slit in its back; the fire had burned a tunnel through it horizontally but, from the outside, had seemingly left the top and bottom untouched. Slowly, though, the fire within consumed more and more of the stuffing, and though there was no visible burning to prove this, the bear began to slowly lean forwards, almost as though it was slowly looking at the fire coming from it. Slowly it bent downwards, painfully slowly... and then, all at once, simply imploded, collapsing inwards as the flame consumed the padding necessary to hold the whole torso up. From there, the process proceeded exponentially, as the whole torso was immediately engulfed in the flames that had brought it down and the lower body burned ever faster as the flames spread upwards and sideways. When the flames died down, nothing remained save some pink mush that might have once been teddy bear feet and a lot of carbon.

We brought the remains to class as a visual aid. I'm fairly certain one girl actually cried.

The last bit of the joke comes some time later. Unsure of what else to do with the burned and presumably toxic remains after we had brought them to class, we did what any high-school student would do: we stuck it all in a locker and left it there, where it stayed to the end of the school year and right into the summer vacation. The last we heard of it came from the school custodians, who had apparently found a strange purple thing they took to be a burned flower arrangement sitting in a locker while they cleaned the school up during the summer. Presumably, they threw it out. I have yet to stop laughing.

So, for those wondering what prompted all this, "Ashes of the Plush Martyr" was a direct reference to this event. Not only do I have yet to forget the burning teddy bear, I have yet to stop coming up with new jokes about it. It was, perhaps, a cruel and nasty thing to do, but I feel no shame for having done it. In fact, the teddy bear was immortalized and continues to bring me joy to this day when it was otherwise destined to simply be thrown out, and I'm inclined to say this this was a better fate for it than to lie, anonymous and forgotten in some trash heap. The Plush Martyr lives on forever in my heart.

And, quite possibly, somebody's garden.

Welcome to December. I can't speak for any of my readers, but it's been nearly a year since the last time I had a December, which is rather a long time. For whatever reasons, December has generally been among my favourite months... probably my third favourite of the 12. It tends to be a fairly relaxed month in my life, as for the last six years or so I've had most of December without classes and have been able to while away the month with holidays both gag and real, gaming, watching movies, playing videogames, building snowthings, and generally being me with the added bonus of it being cold outside. This year, I won't be quite as relaxed as I'd normally get to be, given that I'll still be in classes right up until I write my exam on the 21st (for which I'm probably going to have to miss another game, curse and grumble), but it's still looking to be a good month.

Among other things, December has three of my favourite holidays: Happy Things Day on the 23rd, Game Day on the 29th, and Hannukah which falls wherever the heck it wants to. New years falls in this vicinity too, but I personally list this, like Topin Wagglegammon, as a niftyday rather than a holiday. The astute reader will not be shocked to see that Christmas is not on this list. I hate Christmas with a near Scroogian passion, mostly because of the music but also due to no shortage of other reasons, most of them bipedal.

Today is December 2nd. Between today and the 27th, I will not be setting foot inside a mall. It's more than my life's worth.

As the snows begin to fall in earnest, I've also begun planning what kind of snow sculptures I'll be building this year. I've been trying to go out at least once each winter for the last few years and build a really decent snow sculpture, just so I can say I've done it. Three years ago, I constructed my memorable and beloved snow Hutt (as in, "Jabba the" obviously), and two years ago I created my Snow Tentacled Monstrosity, which I maintain to this day melted on cold days and froze on warm days. Both live on, both in memory and, because I had moderate foresight and ample ego, in pictures I took and saved to my computer. Last year, I didn't manage to build anything noteworthy (just lots and lots of snow weasels), because I didn't happen to have free time during good building weather and because I didn't get any ideas I felt were worth immortalizing. This year, I'm giving serious consideration to a snow battle mech or a snowman-eating pac-beast... numerous factors will determine what I end up doing, and I have no great need to schedule my playtime this far in advance. Normally, of course, my sculptures have been build in February or March simply by chance, but this year I'd like to get it done early and ahead of schedule.

It may also surprise people to know that I actually enjoy shoveling snow, in moderation and assuming I don't have anything better to do at the time. Clearing off the front walk is one of the very few times in the year in which I can go outside and openly do something analagous to quarterstaff training without looking ridiculous, and I can clear snow surprisingly efficiently given my low strength and natural aversion to excercise. People who scoff at the idea of using chores as a chance to do weapons training would be well served to remember that the deadly Shaolin spade was designed to be a snow and ice-clearing tool that could be used to slaughter foes as a bonus, and not the other way around.

I would be remiss not to mention one of my favourite winter pass-times, of course. Many people enjoy outdoor activities such as skiing or skating, which are best done in late December because it's cold enough for freezing and snowing but not the horrible, bitter cold we get by February. Similarly, December is probably my favourite time of year for walking outside, not because I enjoy it (which I don't, especially up and down the Mountain where I'm usually walking nowadays), but because as long as the temperature hovers around -4 to 4, it's warm enough for me to walk around jacket-less and not for anybody else. I get the most wonderful confused looks from people at this time of year.

Sadly, before getting to all that fun stuff, there's plenty more unfun stuff to accomplish, but life's looking better today than just two days ago, and I'm up to it. It's going to be a fun December this year -- I'm penciling it into my calendar to be sure.