NRFilmhuis

- suspect nation (NIEUW)
- america: freedom to fascism (PROLONGATIE)
- the moneymasters
- dust to dust
- mena connection
- the Israeli lobby (AIPAC)
- fiat empire
- Mike C. Ruppert's legendary: the truth & lies of 9/11

NRSpreekkamer

- Cohen & Palast - democracy in danger (NIEUW)
- Mike C. Ruppert - peak oil
- Dr. John Coleman - wake up America
- Eckhart Tolle - deepest truth of human existence
- David Icke - big brother, the big picture
- Elisabeth Warren - the coming collapse of the middle-class

NRSeries

- le ballon rouge deel 4 (slot)
- global warming swindle debate deel 8 (slot)
- 9/11 coincidences deel 8

NRDebat
- John McCain vs Barack Obama (eerste debat)

NRRadio
- Jack Blood interviewt Richard Andrew Grove (AIG - insider)

En:
*De kredietcrisis was een vooropgezet plan (David Icke)
*De laatste verkiezingspolls uit Amerika.

     Aimée was awakened by the sound of the two budgies calling from their cage to the sparrows nesting in the ivy outside her bedroom window.  In the early morning light, her eyes traced the silhouette of their cage: a simple arched French wirework Cours Soleya find dating from the turn of the last century, with a naif twisted floral motif on its door and the pitted glass parison of its original feeder (she and Morris had taken turns balancing the cage on the racks of their sturdy, single-geared, white-tired bicycles as they rode through the south of France on their first real summer holiday together).  The birds who now inhabited it, Avignon and Toulouse, jostled one another for the perch closest to the dangling periwinkle-blue framed mirror on which Morris had inscribed a now barely legible “A Mon Avis.” The bad pun was so very Morris, Aimée inwardly winced, as her eyes followed the curves of the bent wire and then rested on the little wooden sign (also Morris’ handiwork)—“Avi-ary”—that he had secured to the cage when Avignon, known affectionately by the diminutive “Avi,” was its sole tenant.  “Too clever by half,” she thought, slipping out from beneath the warm duvet and leaving the author of these bons mots sleeping soundly in the cool, dim room.

"First Day" part 1 of...?

" I glanced outside of the frosty window in my bedroom. It was still covered with a sheet of icky, white, snow. Something I never had to live with in Nevada. My heart ached at the thought. Nevada, my home. This place I was forced to live, Montana, was not my home. I whimpered as I pulled a hoodie over my body, trapping in the warmth of my body. It covered up my favorite T-shirt with my name, Kendra, written in pink airbrush, on the front of it. I shuddered at the sudden gust of cold air as I stepped out onto the porch, overlooking the ghetto-looking street the house was on. "

"The library? Again?"

I nodded, triple checking my bag and staring at my three other class binders, contemplating whether or not I should take them.

"Girl, you are such a stereotypical Asian, always studying. You already have straight A's, what's the rush?"

I shrugged.

"Is it because of your parents? In my Sociology class, we got into this discussion about how Asian families are heavily honor based - "

I rolled my eyes. "Diane, you know my parents aren't like that. They named me River for goodness sakes."

"I know, but still, it's unnatural. It's your freshmen year! It's easy now, so why are you stressin'?"

I shrugged again.

"Maybe you have too much free time. You know, Tyler has been coming by here a lot. To copy my notes, apparently, but whenver he's here - "

"Diane, you know that's because he's hoping you'd dump your boyfriend for him, right? Or that he just wants to get in your pants, whatever happens first."

"Well, you didn't have to say it out loud."

I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. "I have my cell phone on me, if you need anything."

And I was out.

One of the benefits of going to a rather prestigious university is that they always have an extensive library. Any book I could possibly want to read or need for research they have. All coupled with the hushed atmosphere that's ideal for studying.

I made a beeline for the window seats, one in particular. The one in the corner with windows on two sides and the big oak tree in front, my favorite and my normal seat.

And damn. It was taken.

I settled for the other corner window seat. The one facing the main road. It still had a good view; the road was lined with Mom-and-Pop cafes filled with univeristy students. But still, not as good as the oak tree. Especially in late fall.

The library was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The window seats were normally filled with students, the main foyer filled with the quiet rustling of study groups and tutors. But today was different. It was nice.

As I passed my usual seat to go to the seat on the far end, I glanced at my seat's occupant. I didn't get much from the hunched figure, except that it was a guy who had dark hair and wore glasses. And he was studying organic chemistry, judging by the diagrams in his book.

Which reminds me. I have a quiz in that course Monday on Chapter 4.

I came across a term I didn't know about halfway through reading the chapter again. I skimmed my notes, finding a bullet point of information on the subject.

Time to peruse the shelves.

I glanced at the guy in my seat. He didn't seem like the type to steal, plus he was so engrossed in his reading that he probably didn't even notice that I came in. But still, I took my notebook with me anyway. I had already forgotten what I needed to look up.

I ran my fingers across the spines of the books, pausing on a title that looked promising. I was startled as another hand made to take the same book as I started to take it out.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see you."

I looked up at the other person.

It was the guy who was in my seat. He had the same color hair and glasses.

He looked at me with a curious expression, his eyes full of confusion.

We spoke at the same time.

"You took my window seat."

"Aren't you in my organic chem class?"

I blinked. He blinked. We spoke at the same time again.

"Downing's 10:15?"

"The oak tree one?"

Again, synchronization.

"Yeah."

He stared at me, his expression still curious.

I picked the book off the shelf, breaking his gaze. "Did you need this?"

He looked at it.

"Oh. Yeah. Unless you need it?"

"No, I can find another book."

He took the book from me, and I went back to perusing the shelves.

His footsteps were muffled, I heard them now since I wasn't as engrossed in picking out a book. The slow cadence suddenly stopped as he turned back to face me.

"My name's Aiden, by the way."

I picked two promising looking books off the shelf and didn't answer.

This project is broken up into 5 different sections, with different works being done during each section. This is my plan for the sections:

Sections 1&2: Graphic Design

Section 3: Web Design

Sections 4&5: Animation

That's it! I hope you enjoyed.

     Stretched out on the floor, his head gently rocked by the rhythmic swell and dip of the dog’s breathing, he was dreaming about the large grey clapboard house on the shores of Lake Ontario where his first girlfriend, Alison, had lived. (They still exchanged Christmas cards or marked significant events—the birth of a child, the illness of a parent, a new job—with an exuberance of emails, and a photograph she had sent him was posted above his desk: her prairie-grass hair is tangled into a ponytail, and she smiles shyly at the camera, her gaze direct, her eyes as blue as the lake-water that laps against the canoe that she paddles.)  The house belonged, even now, to her father; her mother had died, he knew, shortly after Alison left to go to university abroad, where she had subsequently married and set up house.

     In Rennie’s dream, though, the house was deserted—except, that is, for him. Through its many small-paned and curtainless double-hung windows, the frigid (some, but not Rennie, might describe it as mercilessly honest) light of January shone. Starting in the uppermost left corner of the uppermost left pane, he misted the glass of the first window.  Peering through the pane as it clouded over, he watched as the gelid pewter lake and the tortured pines lost their definition, became a blur of muted color.  Then, taking a soft dove-grey flannel, he rubbed each pane in turn, as if he were carefully sliding the tiles of a 15-puzzle, trying to find meaning in confusion.  With methodical vigor, he wiped the spray (which smelled of something that he couldn’t quite place—lilacs? lavender? lily of the valley?) that had fogged the cold panes: obscurity; clarity; obscurity; clarity.  This was simple lucidity, the clearness of revelation.  The thought sent a cold pang through his naked—in his dreams, he was always naked, raw, vulnerable—body.  He jerked awake.  The dog moaned and twitched beneath him.

To some it may be a bit foggy, but do you remember dropping into Presto’s Grove upon your first arrival into Dizzywood? For many, that time came long ago, but if you look out into the distance, you’ll notice the arrival tubes that brought you here. Yup, this is what you traveled through!

Little is known about Dizzywood’s exact location, but history tells us that thousands of years ago, before humans and animals inhabited the world, colossal titans called Ancients could be seen roaming the landscape. Trekking along, sometimes too small to notice, were small faerie-like creatures called Sprites. There are a number of Sprites that you can see cheerfully throughout Dizzywood today, most of which are very playful and admire getting to know you through games, and the nature surrounding them. Hearing them speak may not come so easily, as they must be summoned by musical instruments.

Their more wild and mischievous counterparts are Bogies. Throughout the history of time, they have been known to play tricks, sometimes making it hard for Explorers to travel, or misplacing things. They mean no harm, but can’t resist the temptation to be chaotic at times.

A number of the world’s indigenous animal kingdom, such as the many flying and skittering critters still thrive to this day. They have since become very fond of humans, as many of you have come to own them as your very own pets. They tend to enjoy the company of other critters along with receiving treats you may carry in your backpack.

Much time has passed, allowing these magical creatures to come out and welcome us, but we must always keep in mind that their existence now relies on our care for them and the environment around them. Future Dizzywood Explorers that fall from those tubes must know their history, so it is up to you to continue to pass the stories along.

The first conscious memory I have is of saying: "Mama," and hearing another voice in my head say: "Papa."  It would be many more years before I would be able to identify these voices.  There were, in fact, only two of them until I reached puberty - that is when they exploded numerically.  But I'm getting ahead of ourselves.  "Mama" was the last word I would utter for the next three years.

The truth is that both of my inner voices learned to speak before me.  Their early ability to articulate words and thoughts is probably the reason why I never learned to speak until I was 3 1/2 years old.  There was just too much background noise.  My parents took me to several doctors, which they could not afford, to find out what was wrong with this child. One diagnosed me as being autistic, another as schizophrenic.  Our pastor performed an excosism ritual on me - which only caused laughter among the voices.  They either were not demons, or our pastor had no idea how to cast them out.  In the end it was decided that I was just slow, or as they said in the early 1960's - retarded.

So, as I slogged through grade school, I was always put in the "special" classes.  It became boring and frustrating.  Even when I didn't know the answer to a question, one of the voices always did.  By fifth grade, a perceptive teacher named Mrs. Pugsly decided to give me an IQ test.  Although I never learned the results, I was quickly moved from the "special" class to the "excellerated" class.  By the time I ended the fifth grade, I was promoted directly to the seventh grade.

The result of all this was, by age eleven, I was perhaps the most confused pre-teen in the country.  I was dumb, I was genius, I was retarded, I was mentally ill, I was the little nerd that skipped 6th grade, I was demon-possessed, I was a CIA research project (I haven't the time nor inclination to go into that one).

The only thing I was certain of was that I was the only one to know of or able to hear the voices, and I was determined to keep it that way.

     Rennie never went anywhere without a little black moleskin notebook in which he recorded his dreams.  Sometimes his notes were spare, mysterious, an obscure shopping list of words or images: 

silver rain—carburetor—olive tree—golf?.

Sometimes, they were a kind of idiosyncratic haiku:

moonless night,

silent on cold wet flagstone,

Pterostichus melanarius.

(Torn from a copy of the National Geographic dated February 2, 1961, a picture of the Common Black Ground Beetle—

 --was tucked into a pocket in the front cover of his notebook.) Or he would draw queer diagrammatic sketches that seemed to be of nothing in particular:

 .

Mostly, though, he would fill the book with long, meticulously detailed scribblings about his dreams, scrawled across page after page, like spun sugar flung on the surface of an île flottante.

        Rennie.  Rennie was a promise whispered, earnestly, in the first faint half-light of infatuation.  He had a certain beauty, although, more often than not, of late, the perception of it escaped Arden: when not lying prone on the floor of the study, he had the lithe athleticism of an otter.  And like an otter, too, there was a soft slick to his hair and a curious, playful, but diffident cast to his face.  His eyes, though, which were close-set beneath straight, deceptively serious and, yes, stubborn brows were not the bright, quizzical, bituminous buttons of that supple creature, but, rather, were like twin dappled woods on a late summer’s afternoon.  Most notably, and elusively, there was something oddly feminine about Rennie—not prettiness, exactly, but the self-conscious grace of an eleven-year-old girl—that had been what had first attracted Arden to him, but that now, she might have confided to someone (had there been anyone in whom she felt she could confide), quite frankly, she found infuriating.

And then I decided I liked her.  I asked her out to coffee.  She said she had a boyfriend.  I said, "Ha, no, I meant go to coffee as friends - jeez - what did you think I meant?  A date?  Ha!  No," because that's what you say.  She said, "Oh, okay!"

We never went on a coffee drink not date.

Four months later I had moved to Austin and she had moved to New Orleans.  We didn't really talk much during those four months and I had somehow become Mr. Magnetic to girls in my neighborhood (maybe because I had gotten just a smidgen less depressed - that point where girls love you, because if you were more depressed, that'd be too much, and if you were happier, you'd probably have a girlfriend).  But one weekend she came over to Austin to visit some other friends and said she'd stop by my neighborhood and stay with me a night or two.  I didn't really think anything much would happen.  Maybe a random hookup if she were lucky.  Because I'm sexy.

I told her to meet me at the Texas Natural Science Center at 5 o'clock because it was near the wine party that I was invited to and that way we could arrive together.  She came at 6, which I knew she would do, and is why I said 5.  She's very bad at punctuality.  (I'm not exaggerating that - I knew she would come an hour late - and she did come exactly an hour late - and so I moved the meeting time up an hour).

We walked over to my cousin's apartment, which was a penthouse apartment overlooking a beautiful public garden and turned out to be the first ones there.  My cousin, somewhat ignoring my date (who I told my cousin about the day before the party, so she knew that we weren't together, so she didn't need to give the respect due to a girlfriend), introduced me to everyone who walked in, including a strange number of literary-world celebrities, one of whom was Sofia's favorite author.  Now who looks cool?

No?

Oh, yeah, it's me.

Fast forward a wee bit, and Sofia was taken over by a handsome male hitting on her the whole time while I was introduced to everyone and their second cousin.  Then I heard, "Jackie!"  

People don't normally call me Jackie - they call me Jack - unless they knew me growing up.  It was an elementary school friend of mine and he invited me to another mutual friend's birthday that night.  I invited Sofia - she who was still innocent of my desire for her (as she tells me now) - and she said she was game, or down, or righteously excited to attend.

We came as the first and left as some of the last - well filled up with white wine, myself embarressing me in front of my cousins, or at least feeling embarressed for no reason in particular.

Stanton (my elementary school friend), Stanton's sister, Sofia, and I all took a cab to the club where the party was.  There was a list and Sofia and I weren't on it.  But right as we were denied, my friend whose birthday it was walked out and yelled, "Jackie!" and ran and gave me a huge hug.  Ha, big bouncer man, who's cool now?

Sofia and I walked in but the moment we entered the exclusive second-floor lounge and dance area, Julianne's (the birthday girl) mother saw me and pulled me away from Sofia, hugging me and dragging me to another freak of nature - in that I am six foot seven and the girl she pulled me toward was six foot four (but with heels on, so she was actually taller than I was).  She said we had to get to know each other and dance (I hadn't seen Julianne's mom since highschool prom when I slept over in their livingroom).

I excused myself by saying I would return and found my way back to Sofia, who found her way to the open champagne bar.  She was being hit on again by a handsome Nigerian man and I cut in so that the two of us could go sit on the couch and talk.  The night gets a little hazy there - and there was some dancing involved, because I know that later Sofia would tell me I was a good dancer and I also have a memory of her dancing with the Nigerian, but for the life of me I could not tell you what happened when.  Until...

Sofia and I were sitting down.  I came across as jealous for her talking to the Nigerian man for a long time - and dancing with him.  She asked why it mattered and said it was annoying and stupid that I was jealous.  It was, but hey, whatcha gonna do?

I asked if I could kiss her.  She paused.  Then she said...

"No."

Awesome.  Awesome night now.  Super happy.  So then I became much more tame and humble because I was shot down and thus I shut down.  She ended up having a friend of hers pick her up in a car (at 4am). Now that's a nice friend because, jeeze, I don't know if I'd be into that for someone who I wasn't dating and wasn't my bestie in the whole world.  

Suffice it to say, she did not come home with me that night and we did not kiss.  I ended up waking up at Julianne's apartment sitting around a table where everyone was talking really quickly.  I realized that everyone was doing drugs of a powdery-nose kind and I excused myself to go to bed.  It was 6 in the morning.

And that was first date.  I went to bed feeling dejected, but also so tired that that the dejected feeling only lasted for about four seco...zzzz

         Stopping on the landing to gird herself, emotionally, for the inevitable—and, it seemed lately, nightly—fray, Arden glanced into the study.  There, on the floor, lay Rennie, his head pillowed by the swollen belly of Talisker, their golden retriever. The television was on.  A half-finished glass of wine stood, precariously, on the carpet beside him. He was faintly, but unmistakably, snoring.

         “Unbelievable,” she exhaled, “un-fucking-believable.”

Voldemort is tightening his grip on both the Muggle and wizarding worlds and Hogwarts is no longer the safe haven it once was. Harry suspects that dangers may even lie within the castle, but Dumbledore is more intent upon preparing him for the final battle that he knows is fast approaching. Together they work to find the key to unlock Voldemort's defenses and, to this end, Dumbledore recruits his old friend and colleague, the well-connected and unsuspecting bon vivant Professor Horace Slughorn, whom he believes holds crucial information. Meanwhile, the students are under attack from a very different adversary as teenage hormones rage across the ramparts. Harry finds himself more and more drawn to Ginny, but so is Dean Thomas. And Lavender Brown has decided that Ron is the one for her, only she hadn't counted on Romilda Vane's chocolates! And then there's Hermione, simmering with jealousy but determined not to show her feelings. As romance blossoms, one student remains aloof. He is determined to make his mark, albeit a dark one. Love is in the air, but tragedy lies ahead and Hogwarts may never be the same again.

The Half-Blood Prince looks amazing from the brief trailer that has been released. I am all twitterpated in anticipation. As I already mentioned, David Yates will return to direct the film. Also, the much missed Quiddich makes a beloved return. And of course, Daniel Radcliffe (Harry), Emma Watson (Hermione), Rupert Grint (Ron) and the rest of gang is back again.

Some informative and interesting websites that will answer almost every one of your little heart's desires, about Harry Potter that is, are listed below. Enrich your mind. Check them out!

Harry Potter Wiki

Muggle's Guide to Harry Potter

Harry Potter Lexicon

Harry Potter - Official Site

JK Rowling - Official Site

Harry Potter Games and more

Muggle.net

Long live Hogwarts.

~~~~

1 - Universal Magic

- Sasilva and Xereva (the two gods) are the only beings who can access this type of magic, and the result is why they are known as gods to all mortal beings. Having been created by a random accident of the universe's potential, they are connected to everything within the realm of existence—right down to the atom. Such a connection means that they have the ability to shape the universe in any way they see fit, and to do whatever they want within it, including smashing right through the accepted laws of physics. They can shape stars or worlds, as well as destroy them. They can generate energy and substance from nothing, and can influence the raw materials of the universe (stardust) to become any element or any combination thereof.

A side effect of all this is a variety of senses beyond the normal ones, as well as an original five which are increased to the point of omnipotence. All spectrums are visible to them, and they can sense the whisper of an igniting star from half the universe away. But the most startling ability is that they can sense everything that goes on in the universe at once, and can process it without even blinking. They can even predict some events, but only on a universal scale—mortal activities are mostly unpredictable.

2 - Elemental Magic

- Available only to the two races that were created from the earth (the Sasiil and the Xeresh), elemental magic is an extremely potent means to an end. Since the two races were created of the earth, they are connected to it, albeit not as strongly as the gods are connected to the universe. As such, they have control over the four basic elements of the world—air, earth, water, and fire. They can shape and direct limited amounts of it without any loss of power, allowing them to perform astonishing feats that any Human might consider impossible.

There are, however, a few limits on what such powerful magic can do. Though there is no physical strain on the user, the focus required to draw on one's connection to the earth is immense, and hard to sustain for any long period of time. The effect can be dulled with practice, but the strain never completely disappears, especially during large spells. In addition, the range of spell control is limited: one can only draw elements within a certain sphere, and extending their range outside of that means losing their abilities in other parts of that area. Lastly, the amount of an element that can be controlled at once is also limited. The connection to the earth only extends so far, and straining it risks drawing power from one's own body to fuel the spell.

3 - Life Magic

- This kind of power is available to all of the races, and to animals as well. However, the massive disadvantages make it impractical for almost all of them, even though the effects of using it are potentially even greater than the largest elemental creation.

Life magic, as the name implies, draws its power from the life of the wielder. The two original races (the Sasiil and Xeresh) both possess energy fields within them that they can shape to whatever they can envision. The downside, of course, is that the energy within them makes up their life force, and each use of it drains them of a set amount of time in their lives. For the Sasiil, it is a half-day of life per normal-sized spell, which is only a fraction of time in the altered time scale of the world. (1 day = 30 hours, 1 month = 50 days, 1 year = 10 months) But for the Xeresh, who possess only a core of energy instead of fields of it as the Sasiil do, a normal spell costs an entire month. And for humans, who possess no pure energy to draw upon, a single life magic spell means instant death.

Even though the disadvantages are terrible to imagine, the benefits are numerous. Pure energy can be shaped into any effect that the wielder can imagine, and can be combined with elemental magic to increase range, control area, and focus. It can manifest as telekinesis or incredible strength, or it could be as innocuous as a slightly changed appearance. Any effect is achievable, and the only limit is the span of a person's life.

4 - Ritual Magic

- Ritual magic is the most complicated form of magic, utilizing diagrams and a number of symbols to perform the written effect. It is how the most complicated structures and spells are generated, and there is almost no defending against an attack which is performed via a ritual.

The concept of ritual magic is simple: instead of drawing on the power of the earth or the power of life, draw on the power of the universe itself. But to do so means that one must have a significant knowledge of Xereshinae (Language of the Void) characters, as well as the symbol diagrams appropriate for the type of spell. In addition, a significant amount of mental energy is expended trying to keep the resulting spell in line, and generally requires two or more people to do effectively.

Ritual spells can take a long time to prepare, and are generally not used in combat unless it is an opening attack or a previously-set trap. However, for building and medical purposes, they excel at doing their job. An additional use is for binding universal power into certain objects, which can be used later without any requirements for power. But using such energy is an entirely different branch of magic.

~~~~

This is the first part of my Systems of Magic entries; I'll have the rest of it up by the end of the day.

         “Aran!” she shouted up to the third floor (whatever it was about this time, it was, she was quite certain, her youngest’s fault), “If you’d spend as much time worrying about your homework as you do about your clothes, you might not be such a failure at school.  You can forget about going to that party next week!”

         “Stupid cow!” Aran yelled back, slamming the door to her room.

Please check it out, there's two parts, part one featuring "Rebel Girl" + an interview and part two featuring "Pure".

(Sorry for bad video quality.)

Thanks//Endless Shame

         Upstairs, the girls were at one another again: Skye, almost sixteen, in so many ways a replica of herself, but she was—what?—a bit too round about the hips, too fleshy in her arms, and so high-strung, but a promising academic, if she continued to apply herself; Aran, two years Skye’s junior, was, well, a disappointment, too much her father’s daughter, with a... determined?...no, stubborn set to her brow, the copper hair of Rennie’s (half-wit—to be honest, that’s all she was, now, really, wasn’t it?) mother somehow an affront, and, like her father, as well, insufferably lazy.  What was he doing now?  Tinkering in the basement, no doubt, or out wandering the laneways with that malodorous dog.  Why did it always fall on her to deal with these petty squabbles?  Surely her mind should be dedicating itself to more scholarly pursuits than determining who scuffed whose Steve Maddens?  Their shoes, scuffed or not, weren’t, after all, purchased with the fruit of Rennie’s meditations—she paused halfway up the stairs to wonder what she had done with her glass of wine.  Not that Rennie had meditations.  Not that he ever bought anything, either.  At least, nothing they actually needed, nothing of consequence. 

I apologize for the time it took me to post another entry. Many things have come up in the past several weeks that desperately needed my attention. I decided to take the commentary a step further. First I discuss the worst MMO I have ever played in the paragraphs below. Part two of this entry will be on the best MMO I have ever played. Keep in mind that when I say MMO I mean free MMORPG (I tend to specialize in those since I have no money--really, no money). Below is a detail of my time with Maple Story, like I promised in my last entry.

The gameplay in Maple Story was occasionally fun and interesting, but had some downsides as well. The first thing you will learn about the game is that it is a 2D platforming MMORPG. Overall the platforming made travel by walking a little more difficult and time consuming (as you could fall and would have to start all over from the beginning of the map.) It made finding new areas difficult as not all exits were highlighted by a light blue glow. Some places were more discrete such as doors (some led to places and others were just decorative.)

The second thing to take note of is the surprisingly good and simple class system in Maple Story. This was one of the few reasons I played for as long as I did (about a month). Everyone starts out as a vagrant (or whatever it was called); from there you can chose to become a mage, fighter, rogue, or archer. From there each class splits again and then the next class change is more of a further specialization for each of the 8 advanced classes. The skill and stats systems were typical of most free MMOs but still pretty fun. Each class appeared to have helpful skills (though some were better than others). I personally was a mage; then, I became a cleric. I didn't get past level 40 though.

Grinding in Maple Story became complicated after leaving the novice area. It's after you get your first class change that you first struggle to find a good 'spot' in which to level. You could usually spot the popular areas pretty quickly by the incredibly fast spawn rate. In some places there would be 10 or more people (usually many parties as well as individuals) vying for relatively small pieces of land. As often as not you would have to share your 'spot' with another player and kill stealing or ksing became a common occurrence. If you did manage to get a spot to yourself, someone could easily come in and claim it as there own--that they 'went back to get more potions.' It was not better going to a place where there was no one as the spawn rate would be so low that even after clearing out the whole area, creatures would come back relatively slowly. It was even harder to find the right monster for your class and level, you usually had to ask. Grinding became an art form and a matter of 'negotiation.'

Fourthly, questing in Maple Story was also an issue for many reasons. First off were the platforming quests. It was easy jumping from platform to platform at first, but got progressively harder. When you missed a jump, the progress you lost was often major. It was back to the days of Mario Brothers, but much, much, much less entertaining. Quest availability was determined by level, and you found your quest log filling up faster than you could complete them. You were often never told where to get these quests, only who to get them from. It became very difficult to track such a great number of quests. Often the rewards were not even worth it. For killing 99 of a monster you could get 50 good quality potions, and for killing 999 of the same monster you would get 30 potions of less quality than the first set. There was one quest in particular that really bugged me, and I will get to that after talking about travel.

Travel was a major monetary issue in Maple Story if you refused to dish out real money for perks. In game gold was hard to come by if you didn't regularly sell decent items on the player market. Teleportation scrolls were fairly expensive and quests had you traveling between the five major towns regularly. Walking was doable only if you had the patients for platforming your way along the main ring of roads. The worst part of travel was between the main island and other continents. You had to wait up to 15 minutes for a boat to arrive that would take you to the next area and that ride itself could last 5 minutes. It was worse if you needed to travel two continents away; that could be up to a wait of 40 minutes in all. It gets even better when you must complete a certain quest on one of these voyages. The quest item you need to complete the quest (actually only one of three) is dropped by a boss that you encounter during the voyage from the main continent to the next one. There is only a chance that he will appear. Even then, you would need a party to deal with him as your level is so low when you get the quest that it is best to stay out of the battle altogether. Needless to say, I didn't even bother with this one and stayed inside, away from the flying demon.

Lastly, there is the market system in Maple Story. Even though shops are regulated to one giant market area, it's just chaotic as any other individual vendor market. There are many rooms to explore, but you still have to wade through overpriced goods looking for the one thing that you need (often a quest item, as some are just a pain to get). The biggest nuisances are all the people hawking their wears. Everyone is inputting their text so fast that you can't even read the messages in the chat box. Therefore, since everyone has speech bubbles, it becomes more of a matter of whose bubble takes up most of the screen. The typical message would be something like, "WTS [insert item here], best offer, whisper [person's name]!!!!!!1@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@." I like to call it the atat syndrome.

The 'best' part about Maple Story is its memorable community. It all began back in my newbie days when I first left the ship from newbie island. I spend a few minutes exploring the port and meeting all the NPCs there. I catch a fellow walking by, and the first thing to escape his lips is, "i want to lick ur boobs" (punctuation is intact). I had hoped that this would be the last I would have to hear of such inanities. I was very wrong; it was only the beginning. So, here are my memoirs from those times. Some are mere examples of what go on in this place called Maple Story, and others are the real deal.

Maple Story has a faming system where most games would have a reputation status. Fame was sometimes gained for doing quests (very rare), but the majority of your 'fame' came from other players. You could fame (or defame) one person of your choosing each day. There were minor benefits to having fame, but that is something else altogether. Fame possessed the citizens of Maple Story to act in ways that under normal circumstances they would never do (at least I would hopes so). One of my favorites was people randomly defaming you 'just because they could.' Another was offering 5,000 gold for each fame point given. And then there were those 'innocents' that would say, "OMG, someone famed me! [Imma rock star now!]" Er, that last part was my own take. Anyhow, moving on....

Hacking in Maple Story was supposed to be prevented through a state of the art hacking prevention program that took just as long to load as the game itself. Then, I heard about the 'third wave of hacking' and realized that the hacking software meant nil. Hacking was more of an annoyance and an inconvenient than a real threat. But every now and then you would see one person in a corner of the map and no enemies would be in the area. Then one would spawn and immediately fly away...to that corner. Usually I would switch channels if I wanted to grind in that area, otherwise I would just be passing through. The problem was this: those flying monsters became projectiles that could hurt you and potentially kill you (especially if you were a low level mage). But I digress. The real stupidity were those that would accuse you of hacking if you were either of a high level (like level 40) or if it appeared that you were never hurt (or just that good at playing). Some would even threaten to report you. I was never worried, but it becomes impossible to tolerate so many levels of stupidity at once.

It gets better after you have braved all these fellow citizens of Maple Story. There are also the people who can't talk, beg, or try to scam you. What I mean by people who can't talk are those whose understanding of the English language is so limited that they speak in one word sentences. I have the perfect story for this. A player came up to me saying only the word 'friend.' It must have been at least three times before I decided to add her (hoping she would leave me alone). Next she asks, "party." Note the lack of capitalization and question mark. I must be psychic to understand these people. I shrugged and say to myself, "Why not?" Then she says, "follow." I can't remember what happened after that, for I must have hit my head on the wall a few times. People who talk in this manner also often beg. It can be for items, potions, or money. You name it, they would probably ask for it. The more 'creative' beggars will often strip down to nothing and ask you to follow them to an undisclosed location. These people are the scammers that think they have it all figured out. They will ask you to drop up to five items 'of high value' just so he can 'check them out.' I should be able to 'trust him.' I mean, after all he's naked and would never steal them, wink-wink. (Note: I imagine that they are naked to get you to think that have absolutely nothing, and that you would give them stuff out of the kindness of your heart. Or they are just immature.)             

There are other common occurrences in Maple Story in regard to conversation. There are the awkward conversations that you find all over Maple Story. Such as a Spanish speaking person trying to talk to a French speaking person. Or 13, 26, and 60 year olds having a conversation with each other. There are also people that will randomly come up to you and call you 'hot' (if you have a female avatar). Though, I find it odd that a big headed freak with limited customizability could be considered that. Since there is a marriage system in Maple Story (I am told) this same person may also ask you to be his girlfriend. I'm sure it can work the other way too. They often do this without knowing anything about you! It is just so absurd I think I split my side laughing as these poor players. Ultimately, it is the player base that kills this game.             

What sets Maple Story apart from other games is its 2D platforming nature and its horrid player base. This is a double whammy for some people, and I would recommend that if you know what's good for you, you will stay away. Though I am sure my words will invite the morbidly curious to experience it for themselves to see if what I say is truly valid. I doubt anyone will have the same experiences that I had, but I can safely say your own will be... memorable.

Random Encounters: MMO Players (Part One)

What follows is a list of creatures you may or may not encounter if you ever play Maple Story and other such MMOs. They are the 'bread and butter' of evil MMO players.

NAME: Whiners

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Ignore or spend all your patience to help them.

EXPERIENCE: You can vastly increase your patience skill from helping them.

WEAKNESS: Attention

ABILITIES: Whine, Complain, and Cry

ITEMS DROPPED: Essence of Tear Drop

DESCRIPTION: Whiners are a special breed of beggar that often complains about no one thing. They have questions that ask nothing specific at all. They crave attention, but it can also be their downfall as they are not use to getting it. You can choose to ignore them, but, chances are, you won't get a thing from doing so accept maybe some peace and quiet.

NAME: Beggars

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Ignore or give them what they want.

EXPERIENCE: You gain nothing from helping them save empty pockets.

WEAKNESS: Spare change (only temporarily stuns them).

ABILITIES: Beg, Whine, and Complain.

ITEMS DROPPED: Alms Cup

DESCRIPTION: It is not so much that there are many types of beggars, there are simply degrees. Some only know how to beg, whereas others have also learned to whine and complain. With these more advance skills, it is easier for them to get attention. It is best if you level up your ignore skill before approaching one (or let the wax build up in your ears). There are very limited ways in which to deal with them as giving them things only encourages them. If you are unfortunate enough to give in to one, you may find yourself with a new 'friend.' Now he or she can contact you remotely!

NAME: Leecher

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Kick from party.

EXPERIENCE: The joy of normal experience gain.

WEAKNESS: AFK

ABILITIES: AFK, Rest, Excuse, and Stall.

ITEMS DROPPED: Scroll of Experience Rate Normalcy

DESCRIPTION: Leechers are party members that do absolutely nothing. Well, they do watch you work hard, beating enemies senseless. Thus, they leech a percentage of your experience, your hard work. They will do anything to stay in your party. They will pretend to be busy, and assure you they will get back to fighting. They stall, make excuses, or say they need to rest. Often, they will be afk--that's your chance to strike and kick their sorry rears out of your party.

NAME: Ksers (Kill Stealers)

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Pre-empt or get even (become a kser yourself).

EXPERIENCE: Competitive spirit.

WEAKNESS: A taste of their own medicine.

ABILITIES: KS and Complain

ITEMS DROPPED: Consolation Prize (because you're now a kser too).

DESCRIPTION: Ksers are the bane to basic combat. They come in claiming your spot as their territory and they proceeded to take your kills as there is only enough room for one to hunt there. Leaving is not an option (at least for me). Therefore, you can either finish the kill before they catch up, or begin taking out their marked creatures. Either way, you will end up enriching your competitive spirit. Just be warned if you choose the latter path. You will become a kser yourself. The road is filled with its own dilemmas. Choose wisely (or be a chicken and give them your awesome hunting spot).

NAME: Looter

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Fast reflexes or auto pickup.

EXPERIENCE: A possible agility or dexterity increase.

WEAKNESS: Lack of treasure.

ABILITIES: 5 Finger Discount

ITEMS DROPPED: None

DESCRIPTION: Looters are more bold versions of their kleptomaniac scavenger counterparts. Rather than going after abandoned loot, they target more resent drops instead, hoping for something good. They become stalkers and don't give up even when it's apparent that you pick up your stuff long before it becomes available to anyone. They still pathetically try to pick up stuff they cannot (beware of mistaking bots for simple looters!). Sadly, there is little that can be gained from these sorry creatures, and even less that can be done about them.

NAME: Agroers

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Their own demise.

EXPERIENCE: A good laugh with a small chance of party defeat.

WEAKNESS: Pretty Monsters.

ABILITIES: Mass Lure

ITEMS DROPPED: Essence of False Bravery

DESCRIPTION: Agroers should be labeled and ostracized--for their own safety of course. They have absolutely no sense of self preservation and often lead unsuspecting parties to their doom. They are also known as agro retards (often warriors) that run about agroing everything in their path. Then, the agroer usually brings this wave of monsters right back at the party, thinking you will save them. This is where you do absolutely nothing. Set back, get out some popcorn, and enjoy. Warning: When going into a dangerous situation with a party, make sure that everyone is ready or you may be mistaken for an agroer.

NAME: Farmer

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Gaming update.

EXPERIENCE: You notice the prices going up.

WEAKNESS: Game balancing.

ABILITIES: Farm, Farm, and More Farm with a side of Botting.

ITEMS DROPPED: None.

DESCRIPTION: Farmers are creatures that affect your gaming experience indirectly. They often take advantage of glitches or good drop rate, ever in search of easy gold, items, and experience. These people are usually the first to exploit and glitch. If you have ever played an online game you know this is a very bad idea. It is often hard to tell who is a farmer, and who is not. Ultimately, it is up to the developer to take care of this type of creature. In this sort of situation, nobody wins. When the game is 'balanced' to prevent farming, it becomes harder for legit players to get certain things.

NAME: Griefers

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Ignore

EXPERIENCE: The urge to put them out of their misery.

WEAKNESS: A good PvP system.

ABILITIES: Grief, Whine, and Complain

ITEMS DROPPED: None.

DESCRIPTION: Griefers are a type of pker. This type specializes in--you guessed it!--griefing. This often happens after a defeat at the hands of a fellow pker. Rather than directly blaming the one who killed them (which sometimes they do), they blame the system or various game features instead. They will use anything as an excuse in order to hide the truth. Griefers often have no one but themselves to blame for their utter lack of mad skills.

NAME: Campers

DEFEAT/DISABLE: Relocate or bring friends.

EXPERIENCE: Revenge is so very, very sweet.

WEAKNESS: Lack of fresh meat.

ABILITIES: Camp, Bully and One Shot; One Kill.

ITEMS DROPPED: Essence of Self-Esteem Boost

DESCRIPTION: Campers are another kind of pker. They often lay in wait in various low level hunting grounds waiting for the ideal target that they can take out in one kill. Campers will hardly ever be anywhere near the level of the person they target. The good news is that they are easy enough to avoid by moving to another hunting ground. If one is attacking you, it's easy enough to run away as a camper will seldom follow. Feel free to come back with some friends and exact your revenge--or prevent future attacks.

         Old Mary had played nursemaid to Arden’s girlhood. She had spent long hours sitting on the steps leading up to Addison Hall (steps that were concave even then, eroded by what her childish fancy took to be the heft and drag of learning), waiting for one parent or the other to descend, while she contemplated the building’s rough sandstone facade, as coarse and ruddy as hands chafed by years of tending to the needs of others, and her eyes passed slowly, consciously, over the serene brow of its pale limestone portico. She found comfort in the solidity of its Corinthian columns and delight in the playfulness of its arches, spires, pinnacles, crockets, its flying buttresses, Flemish-bond brickwork, fanciful stone carvings and filigreed iron fretwork.  In short, she loved the place; loved it—and at this realization, she poured herself another glass of the dark wine—as she had loved no other.

Poate intr-o zi si voi veti fi un balon :P !

Eating very little during the day, or anytime, is something that eight months of dieting has made easy for me to do. I had half a slice of fresh pineapple for breakfast, and as I chewed it I enjoyed how delicious it was, until it reached the back of my molars and I suddenly recalled that, due to one of my wisdom teeth being half out of the gum at the moment, I effectively have an open wound in my mouth. oh the pain. A glass of milk made it better. My recent few diets have excluded milk which I think is stupid, I may well try a milk only day very soon.

I packed four crackers to eat during the day at uni, and I attended ALL of my lectures and tutorials despite my original intentions not to. There was no weakness or faintness, I actually felt fine through the whole day and didn't acquire extra food, although I did have some more milk. At the gym I got through all my exercises with no hassle, although I went later in the day than I usually do and there was this woman there who I have seen around before, doing all these hardcore yoga moves which made me feel very intimidated as I stretched beside her.

After uni was done I went to a friend's house and we gossiped and tried to decide what to wear to a party tomorrow night, a quest which later led us to my house where we went through many of my clothes. I believe a leopard-print spandex blend boob tube is in the mix. But my friend gave me many compliments about weight loss which was nice although kind of confusing. 

For dinner I was planning to make some delicious turkish thing but then I realised that there was bolognese sauce in the fridge from the other night and so we had that with rice vermicelli which is so amazing, it's like post-shrinkray spaghetti. I had a big bowl of that with lots of cheese, and then I got some strawberries and chocolate, counting the dessert as still part of the 'one good meal', and this is where the trouble began. I finished a block of chocolate, had half a punnet of strawberries, I toasted marshmallows and then cheese on bread in our fireplace, and actually ate so much cheese that its scent became repugnant to me. There were also more pieces of fruit. I probably ate at least four good meals' worth of snacks, and finally left the kitchen thinking 'WHY don't we have ANY chocolate afghans?!' 

So I didn't strictly follow the 'one good meal' diet but rather binged all evening, staying up late to prolong this even further. The diet I actually ended up having today is closer to this one I just found, the warrior diet, which advocates starving in the day then bingeing in the evening. (of course I don't have the book so there is probably more to it than that, but that is my understanding of the main principle.) This cycle is usually the one I follow when I fall off the diet bandwagon in the evening after being good all day, after which I am filled with guilt and self-hatred reproach. Not only do I feel no sense of accomplishment at the end of today, I also know that unless someone else was controlling my access to food, the same thing would happen every single night if I tried to follow this diet in the long-term.

I slept in this morning, and I thought that was great because sleep is time spent not eating or wanting too, and sleep-ins mean you can eat all your meals a bit later and not run out of food in the evening. wrong! I woke at 9:30 and was through two of my four OSM bars by noon. They can't help being delicious. I used stupid reasoning like 'hey I'll just eat a quarter of the next one and save the rest for afternoon tea' but then it had disappeared. I skipped gym this morning so I didn't kind of test whether I would get weak with exertion, but I did feel fatigued all day although this could be due to other things, whatever.

By three o'clock I had finished my last two bars, and had a sudden onset of stomach cramp, and although it's not as if I had any right to be indignant about this, given the fact that I have turned my gut into a stupid experiment, I totally was.

I met up with my father and he contributed the last eight dollars to the book I've had on lay-by for ages at the university book shop, so now I have this amazingly beautiful Turkish cookbook to read through and salivate on.

We got another bar on the way home and I managed to save it for around dinnertime, that was good. I think the main problem with these bars is that they're too delicious? and at 347 calories each, you can't afford to munch as many as you want. Today I had 1735 calories, only a little below my recommended intake to maintain my current weight, and if I had been in possession of more of these bars I would've eaten them all. So as a longer term diet plan, like buying sixty packs to last a month, I think it would not work at all, they are just too nommy.