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I Think I've Found My Long Lost Sister... O~o
Or something like her ^~^
Tina Lyek is my fave Halo/AVP/Fantasy artist from a tip I got from an associate
I got the Alien art images for. She likes the same things I do WHOOHOO
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Mata Nui Weekly, June 19th-26th 2014
Editorials
A bit dismal in the journaling department this week. Never fear though, once life is taken care of the MNW crew will be ship shape giving you the best OOC plot network. ~Kughii
News
Kentoku Archipelago
- Awaiting information from our regional reporter. Will update soon.
Kini-Nui
- J'con and Syvra left Kini-nui and headed for J'con's cove in Ga-koro.
- Ishi attempted to beguile Echelon and his companions. It failed.
Ta-Wahi
- Awaiting information from our regional reporter. Will update soon.
Ga-Wahi
- Raknar began assembling a crew for his ship, Southern Charm. If you want on a pirate ship, now's your chance!
Le-Wahi
- Awaiting information from our regional reporter. Will update soon.
Onu-Wahi
- Awaiting information from our regional reporter. Will update soon.
Ko-Wahi
- Krell and Iagasa talk about tea, life, and the meaning of all things.
Po-Wahi
- Four Skakdi formed a mercenary guild.
- Vail violently killed a skakdi in the warehouse fight.
- Krazov found one of Jokara’s posters and then Jokara himself.
- 88 decided he will pay back Vhohan for the house.
Media
- Kanohi Dragon, by Vezok's Friend
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Saying Goodbye...
Well, guys, it's been a wonderful six years on BZPower. I've met so many wonderful people, had so many great discussions and gotten to share art and ideas. I'm so glad I could be a part of the community. But I think it's time I say farewell. My interests have changed over the years, and while I will always have a place for Bionicle in my heart (gosh, thinking of the memories I've had on this site and the nostalgia that [1st gen] Bionicle brings makes me want to cry), I've moved on to new things. I wish you all well and will miss being a part of such a great community and a great forum. I may come back every so often to see what's up, but for the most part, this is my last leg of the BZPower journey.
-Rez
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This Was A Triumph
I'm making a note here, huge success.It's hard to overstate my satisfaction.
Well anyways, I'm leaving to do some
slave laborwork for someone in my church for a while. Until Thursday, to be exact. The payment? Being able to stay at their cabin while working and anything that goes along with that.
Oh, and money, apparently. Zomg, I got an iPod equivalent! I'm a conformist! =D Sansa Fuze, if anyone here is really that interested.
And I'm off! At least the weather there should be around the fifties. Just in time for the failure which is eighty degree and up temperatures. A shame I'll have to come back to such heat. Complain, complain...
Have fun without me! =P
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Thank God Almighty, We're Free At Last
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
Free at last! Free at last!
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!
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"green" Funerals
You know what I'm talking about. Biodegradable coffins, no formaldehyde stuff, more ecological burial, etc, general environmental welfare stuff. So if people are gonna go with coffins that break down shortly, and without any sort of thing to slow down decomposition, this means their bodies will decay, rot, and become one with the Earth much faster. So has anybody thought about the potential for abusing this? I mean, you could somebody who has it in their will that they want a green funeral in a non-conspicuous manner, and they'd be buried, and the body would be too decayed to determine the cause of death or whatnot from by the time anybody got suspicious. Geez. Another case of humanity not thinking things over. - 587
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Q: Who Would Win: Mario V. S. Sonic
Figured I'd do one of these before my last (or next to last, depends) blog entry, just to see what the popularity is between the two characters.
I'd take Mario, because Sonic I just dislike intensely. His attitude is just unbearable for me. >_<
(plus: obligatory advertising for my holiday special in the Comedies forum, 'Twelve Days of Christmas' parodied into Bionicle terms)
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From 2003 to 2018
So, hi. Wow. I will admit that I thought the place was razed to the ground years back, and became nothing more than a childhood memory.
I was still technically a youth when I was last here. I was a child when I first joined this place - a very vivid memory of me asking my mother for permission to join the Internet in a world of Bionicle that I learned from a Flash game of Takua.
To add to the feels of polishing off cobwebs, a lot of my old content was gone. I found a message in my Inbox asking for my second Epic, Changing Worlds. All those documents are gone, I'm afraid. I'd honestly be surprised if any data from 2005 made it to my laptop 13 years later.
Lots have changed for me, once I left BZPower and the server move. I got a degree. I got a job. I moved countries for said degree and job, and had to leave it and return to my homeland. Taxes became a thing. Earning a living. The skill of the pen left me as well, when the demand of a day-to-day job overtook languid breaks between essays and projects... and World of Warcraft and Starcraft and Diablo, et cetera.
And the 'death' of Bionicle. I honestly could not keep up when Mata Nui went from godhood to mortal life. He was the last figurine I got, and that was as a gift to an autistic boy who shared a similar passion. That was in 2010, I think? When the news from LEGO came out, I merely thought that all good things would come to an end.
Fast track to today. Just two days ago, I had to dig out old certificates for an interview. I dug out my old backups to hunt down one missing cert, and came across my old FictionWrites. One of them was for Bionicle. And no, it was not everything. I eventually started saving my Epic writings in 2003-4 by copying what I raved into a text field onto Notepad. That did not come through. My short stories were lost too. I only found two stories, both in-progress and will probably be buried. They are fond memories to me, and it would be wrong to go back in and whack at it aimlessly.
I honestly don't know if I will pop round much anymore, but it is great to see old friends and usernames still active here in BZP. Maybe I will? I'm not sure how the rules have changed - or if the rules have changed - but... Yeah. Good to see BZPower alive and well.
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Help Me Win $10 000
So, I entered this Adobe Imagination Challenge, and I need votes to win $10 000.
If you could, help a brotha out and vote for me here: [You may not link to sites with comment systems. -Shine]
aiya shine, pretty please? i thought this was a cooler bzpower
well then just go to the website and go to entries and mine's on page 6
You have to register an account. Don't worry, it takes like 5 minutes.
Spread the word on BZPower! Put a link to this in your blog.
Thanks everyone.
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Avatar: Legend Of Korra
Yay for mini series! I hope it sticks with the classic Avatar stytle we love so much. It would suck if it was like the new film...
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Could I be the only one?
I can't be the only one here who fails to see what a woman being upset over not being able to have kids, has any relation to feminism what so ever. Some people want kids, some people don't. If the writer of the film says the character wanted kids, THE CHARACTER WANTED ###### KIDS!
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Kanohijournal Publications On Bzp
With the return of BZP forums, KanohiJournal Publications (formerly KanohiJournal) will be setting up relevant forum material over the next few days.
As there have been major structural and purpose revamps, the KJP is now more diversified than ever before. This means we will need a bit of time for us to propagate our content across the related sections on BZP. Meanwhile, please visit the official KanohiJournal Publications website, where can you check up on the first chapters of Mata Nui Nui's Origins serial, along with the first fan-made BIONICLE book and more.
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7 Ways to Celebrate Independence Day
7. Run through the streets singing Yankee Doodle--all fifteen-or-so verses!--at the top of your lungs.
6. Call everyone you see "comrade."
5. Remind everyone how this day is a day of remembering and honoring our belligerent founding fathers' disrespect for authority.
4. Mail letters to all your British friends--gloating!
3. Write a short story about a professional baseball player. Then, reveal it to be nothing but a young boy's daydream, suddenly shattered when he hits a baseball through a window. Or otherwise write an Independence Day-themed short story, interpret the theme "Glass," and submit it to the Flash Fiction Marathon!
2. Playing with explosives. Better, watch someone else play with explosives, stand in the crowd, and say to everyone near you, "These Chinese incendiary weapons sure are pretty, aren't they?"
1. Remember the sacrifices of our forefathers, and honor their bravery, their valor, and all the many deeds throughout our history, that have made our nation great, and afforded us the blessed freedom we enjoy.
0. If you're not an American--then spend the day as you would any other day! Happy Thursday!
Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
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Past, Present, and Future
Been browsing through old posts and blog entries. I realized how much I've grown since joining BZP. I first joined when I was in just 3rd grade, over 8 years ago...think how young you were in 3rd grade! Yet I was glued to a computer screen, for BZP, among other reasons.
I think back to my childhood and teenage years. So much of my life now is defined by the things I did here. It was through someone I met on BZPower that I first got into web development, which then inexplicably led me to work on KanohiJournal and other projects that let me hone my programming skills. I am now a freshman in college majoring in Computer Science.
It's all just really interesting for me. Looking back through my activity on this site is like seeing myself grow. I haven't been very active at all for the past few years, but I spent a lot of my formative ones on this site.
Cheers to BZP. It's played a bigger part in my life than I ever thought. If I could just get unbanned from the Facebook group...yeah, that's be great.
If you're one of the followers of this blog (major points if you still are), or if you're one of my closer friends on here (you know who you are), thanks for everything you contributed to my experience on BZP. After graduating high school, I realized we take friends for granted. So if you're one of the people reading this and we've communicated on this site before, ever, thanks to you. Wish you all the best! Maybe I'll post on here every so often.
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Zatch Bell
I'm currently rewatching/(watching for the first time since I only remember them beating Zophis) the series, subbed, and gah, I get so attached to Zatch and Kiyo's ally mamodo teams.
Yopopo, Danny, and Nya are the ones I got really attached to and absolutely didn't tear up when their books got burned. Not at all. Especially Danny.
Also on another note, Naruto is set to end this week. It's been a good run.
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???
I just got accepted into graduate school. My dream program. I feel excited, and I also feel guilty for feeling excited because I'm also still mourning. None of this makes sense.
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Hello Again.
This is my sort of annual visit to BZP to see how things are. This site was one of my main stomping grounds when I was in my teens. Man the time has flown by. I'm freaking 30 years old now! It's pretty cool to see that this place is still going.
Well, until next time!
-Serpent.
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It's a Tuesday Night
Tuesdays seem more tiring than Mondays in my opinion.
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Sup People
'Sup dudes and dudettes. I've finally come out of my cocoon of inactivity, and I'll hopefully post more than I have over the past month or two. (Or three, or four...
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Stellar Phenomena
Once something is close enough to pass through the skin, it enters the black hole in your chest that formed from the self-destructive weight of the questions that are at the end of their lives, as old as anyone has ever been, but also just as young as you. "Who am I?" "What is the meaning of life?" which invariably means, "what is the meaning of my life?" It is said to teach is to learn. How can you teach something only you will ever truly understand? With that in mind, how can you ever truly learn what you know?
Suppose you are trying to describe a friend to someone else. You can use the words most of us would use; loyal, kind, funny (for some of them). You could very well go far, far beyond that. But what that friend is to you is something that can never be articulated fully because no one else is you. To anyone else that friend is just another person, or perhaps their friend, not yours. Once something is a part of you, you can only be and feel it, never know it, because the black hole questions will never stop sucking you in.
I can describe my childhood home to you, can draw a blueprint for you. I can tell you that my room was blue and had a window looking out on the street, and right outside was the staircase that led down to the front door. I can even tell you how that scared me as a child because on nights when I couldn't get to sleep and heard things going bump I'd imagine some axe-wielding madman would kick in the door and come right up and chop me to bits first. But I can never make you understand what it was to me, what it was to live there. It's in my bones, not my head. If I break off a piece of me and give it to you, it will wither and die.
I could, however, tell you in no uncertain terms what the home of someone I know is. I might not remember how many chairs are around the kitchen table or what color the walls are, but I could tell you what it's like to be there, what's on the air. How it feels in that house. That place is nowhere near the event horizon.
This trick works for people, too, and the further they are from you the sharper the image is. I can tell you more about a stranger passing on the street from the way they walk, how they carry themselves. What they wear and how they speak, what's in their eyes. Do they grimace or just roll their eyes when they step in that puddle? When I look at my dearest friends the lens is blurry with love and years of memory. The woman opposite me in the waiting room is a neon sign.
We grasp and flail through our lives and anything we manage to grab ahold of is brought in close, too close, lost and kept forever. You will never stop asking who you are, but people on distant and lonely planets of their own are putting together the puzzle of you. The further from your reach they are, the bigger the piece they've got.
You may stumble through darkness, but know that in the telescopes of unseen strangers, in untarnished clarity, the real you burns.
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