Trespassing by Sparrows Fall, Stealth Aloha, Ninja Paladin
May 14th, 2008 10:41 PMSometimes a task leaps upon you suddenly from around a corner, like a large predatory animal, or a Jehovah's Witness.
This is sunny Edmonton. A calm, peaceful town, its charming serenity broken only by the presence of several thousand BioWare employees creating worlds full of epic galactic upheaval:
We had decided to go for a walk on this fine spring day and take in the sights. The nearest sight was the nearby mall. A mall under construction:
It was here that opportunity presented itself - where could this hallway lead?
NOWHERE WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GO:
This was a particularly tough choice, because our tiny, doughty band was not built for trespassing. Today we were not fleet of foot. Today we were not in possession of ninja equipment, the ability to change direction suddenly, or to stop barking.
And yet, the inevitable human tendency to do things simply because the opportunity has presented itself prevailed:
We entered the hallway. It was long - here's a shot looking back:
But it kept on going:
And going. There was actually more hallway, about this length over once again, but I forgot to take a picture. And at the end?
SECRETS.
And why was this particular trespassing so fraught with danger, you ask? Why were we so lacking in fleetness, in ninja stealth, in the ability to stop barking?
That is because, dear reader, when we ventured past the point that should not be crossed, down surprisingly long sets of consecutive hallways, and into SECRETS -- we did it family style:
(Sparrows Fall took pictures. Her feet are in the proof list.)
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surpraxis, foecake22 comment(s)
I think so. Of course. It's true that they did find the lost ark.
George Washington probably wouldn't like Bugsy Siegal. AAAchoo! Considering the issue: umph. Kerchoo! Ah yes.
Thirteen candles! Twenty-two blackberry lane and the kingdom of the crystal skull showing up red on our scanners! As if Ben Franklin were any different from purple.
@Evil
No lost ark. But it was really pretty. There was work going on in other areas of the builiding, and we could hear machinery and voices, but muffled. The room itself was quiet, with all the cacophony happening around it.
And I've always loved lots of materials stacked up in one place, waiting to become something.
Benton and Marcella yodeled of infatuation with Herbie Hatman while Bill was infuriatedly humming of passion. Bill guided his pondering to the expectations of passion and obsession. "Stop," crooned Herbie Hatman, "Benton and Marcella are exhausted."
All began to trot to Herbie Hatmans yellow and white cottage. Each of them trotted briskly down the street to Herbie Hatmans home whispering "arrange for a continuing ambiguity."
Instantly they realized that winging doves were as disgusting as their commitments, that sashaying cousins guided their hearts through angry dreams. Benton, Marcella, Bill, and Herbie Hatman were tired.
They wanted to sleep, but could not, because the damn winging doves had started yodeling infatuation. Benton and Marcella put on petticoats. "We should not have taught them these things," they said, "It is verboten." Bill took up a degree in library sciences.
Considering this - Ahem! They were all Hatmen. Suckpuppets flocked near like ravens and writing-desks. Bugsy Siegal drove a hybrid, but Washington still didn't like him.
Peak oil was near.
Ravens? Writing Desks? What's the difference? asked Ben Franklin.
Ah, the difference is the engine, said the Hatmen.
Is it better to like or to dislike? It can't be done. A raven is like a writing desk because computers who dislike insist that a raven is like a writing desk. And disliking is not liking, or so one dreams.
Here's a story: Mr. Toad yodeled, "The ambiguity is fascinating!" Yet happy, captivating physicists will think about blue houses or blue hyperbolas. Ms. Otter hummed to Mr. Toad within a truck. It now was a van, and an ambiguity in a van is spooky. Now Benton and Mr. Toad were skipping to a blue mansion, and a fox sashayed to them. Mr. Toad was enraged. Enthralling. Yet Mr. Toad was maddened during the time that Benton drank excellent seltzer. He and Mr. Toad crooned about their studio, car and hi-fi. Poetic poets need Bill Chamberlain.
I'm athletic. What would you consider one of your good qualities?
All physicists are captivating. They see to the heart of things, where the universe keeps its secrets and its van. Pandora opened the double-rear doors of the van, once, and all the evils of the world escaped but ambiguity, because she shut the doors in time. If you open a door at the wrong time, sometimes you get Mr. Toad and Benton making out in their studio. If you open it at the right time you get a sashaying fox, and that's lots more fun. Unless the fox has a difference engine - then Marcella has a lot of cleaning up to do.
If Marcella has a lot of cleaning to do, then Pollyanna is a vile pessimist, worse than Lizzie Borden. The hopeful have pugilistic ways. KERCHOO! I think I have a cold. Maybe it's progress trying to get me.
This'll break you up! Hopeful hope and pessimistic pessimism are enthralling, but an optimist or a pessimist never chants them feverishly. A scientist chants: Prepare for an enrapturing dissertation or story. The hopeful dissertation is enthralling. Nevertheless a pessimist might also yodel the same story.
Right?
Lizzie Borden always hated Pollyana. She wanted to slap that bitch up. But then, Lizzie was always a hopeful girl. She never yodelled. She drove a Prius. Then it all went wrong.
She hummed her passion, though. She sashayed like a fox, and she opened those double-rear doors and climbed right into the van, and her dissertation was one she lost herself so thoroughly in that she lost her self.
That's what Mr. Toad fears Benton will do. That's why he holds back. It's why Marcella watches them both so carefully, and sometimes fear shows at the edges of her eyes.
In Oz they believe it's because wires are fascinating. Fascinatingness is right, you know. Also, conceivably because the realizers insist on it. Do you like emotion?
I love emotion! I think it kicks ass. Unless it becomes fascinating, like sashaying foxes, or George Washington's opinions on Bugsy Siegal. Fascination is like a wire around the throat, if you tear yourself away you'll cut off your air.
Listen to this! GY0 Daryl slapped a player who was kicking GY0 Daryl's tapeworm because Beethoven was an indifferent composer but an inspired musician. After that, industriousness prevailed. Isn't that just awful? But what would you expect from a musician?
Sparrows for senator!
Why do you think you're soft?
Dude, people should not kick other people's tapeworms because of differences in muscial opinions. Softness is not a state of mind - it happens because people are made up primarily of things that squish, and only a few things that crunch.
Why do you think wires are so dangerous?
To think is nice, don't you think? Let me think. Let me think. Let me think. Why is it that I do think wires are so dangerous? Because as you implied before, fascination is like a wire around my throat. Also, because computers who feel insist that I do think wires are so dangerous.
Who is your favorite coward?
My favorite coward is the Spartan who ran from the Persians when Leonidas turned to face them with three hundred men. He is the only reason we know of the glorious sacrifice of that battle, yet he was tortured and killed for letting fear conquer his loyalty. You should tell those computer's what's what - maybe sic Marcella on them, who will brook no foolishness about wires.
Where is your favorite brook?
My favorite is brook in the funny farm. If a worker had ridden to England, fat city would be horrified! The Hotel Pierre is a good place for a resident to rest in the funny farm. Do you like rock?
Rock is amazing - it sings like geese who have taken cooking classes. But sometimes emo is better, particularly if those geese have just been sent to the funny farm.
Where have you been?
From one who enjoys family tasking I commend and applaud your bravery and your style!
The room with the secrets looks a lot like that last scene from Indiana Jones....did you find the lost ark?