munkeymunkey

Of course it's slower. Loading times still do exist on the Internet even today. And know what, I actually enjoy them on this game. -Gata And compared to the 2-5 minutes of waiting per page I used to have with dial-up, this is a breeze. Less suspense I suppose, but that was lost in the past already.

I'm impressed, and rather nostalgic. Nice work on this. If you're up for proofreading, here's a few notes from the opening scene (In Episode 10-0) No apostrophe Missing the word "the" between was and gate Spelling: decended --> descended Spelling: Takyua --> Takua Also, check capitalization in several places. That's all I had time for tonight, but it's looks like a great start!

Here is something you won't see every day: Top 20 Posters That's right. 17914 is the place to be.

Well, that's not a tropical rain forest, it's a cloud forest. It is constantly foggy, but it doesn't rain anywhere near 8 months per year. This picture is form Monteverde, Costa Rica. It averages 80 to 120 inches of rainfall per year. That is wetter than the Northeast US, but it's drier than Seattle, Lousiana, and the Everglades. Much of the rainfall falls in the form of fog, so it isn't actually raining. But everything is GREEN. It also isn't windy. Beaches are windy.

It's very windy. It's very snowy. Well, it isn't quite snow either. It isn't rain, though, nor sleet. It isn't even ice. It actually looks like tiny little pellets of whiteness, short of like that obscure type of packaging peanut that is tiny, round, and sticks to everything. Apparently this is called grapple. So I looked it up online and received this answer: "It is caused by the partial melting of a snow flake that refreezes before reaching the ground. Not too uncommon but not seen in huge amounts or frequently. It will produce this and often the warm layer that is causing the melting will be cooled by evaporation processes and it will change back to snow. There are some cases also where the warm layer rapidly increases and it will change to either sleet or to freezing rain and then to rain. " I found that interesting, but with 35mph sustained winds, I'd rather just be somewhere else. Like here... Edit: Because the beauty and comfort of Monteverde isn't apparent from the picture: "Well, that's not a tropical rain forest, it's a cloud forest. It is constantly foggy, but it doesn't rain anywhere near 8 months per year. This picture is form Monteverde, Costa Rica. It averages 80 to 120 inches of rainfall per year. That is wetter than the Northeast US, but it's drier than Seattle, Lousiana, and the Everglades (the really wet places in the US). Furthermore, much of the rainfall falls in the form of fog, so it isn't actually raining all of those 80 to 120 inches. "But everything is GREEN. It also isn't windy. Beaches are windy."

Bionicle Storyline and Theories - Always prestigious and occasionally pretentious, the inhabitants of S&T approach their intricate passions with diligence. Alabaster buildings and cleanly streets complement the typical order and organization for which its members strive. It isn't loud or bustling, but its thronged with thought and certainly very active. S&Ters live with high intensity, high stakes, and high rises. Historically, S&T has been home to great thinkers, and although the active individuals change, there is a tradition of a small core of highly dedicated, thorough, and knowledgeable members who lead their fellows in theorizing, disproving, and and discussing. That may be a little too flowery and poetic for this purpose, but it's what came to mind when I pictured S&T. I think it fits the "ice" image well.

I was reading through an old interview* (well, not that old) with Viggo Mortensen (Aragorn), and there was a quote that really struck me. I decided to share it with everyone: “You’re, like, It feels like it’s either black or white. Either I’ll just, like, devote my life to trying to do good, or I’ll do nothing. But, there’s an in-between area. It doesn’t mean you should do everything, or can, as a citizen, or a family person, or a friend, or whatever. But, just do something. You’re on your honor. Basically, it’s your own conscience that will tell you are you doing quite enough to where you can feel okay about yourself, or are you not? Only you can answer that.” - Viggo Mortensen, October 2008 I don't think I've ever heard anyone put it quite so succinctly before. I know I often worry about how much I should be doing for others, and I suppose this gives the slap-in-the-face answer: I need to stop worrying an honestly ask myself. If I'm still concerned after that, I should probably do more. I don't want to go forming a credo out of one side comment during an interview, but still, I felt that there was wisdom in what he said, so I wanted to share. (I also greatly respect Viggo Mortensen as an actor. If you watch the cast commentary for the special extended edition Lord of the Rings movies, you'll know what I mean. His fellow actors were impressed with and inspired by him.) *I would give a link, too, but I couldn't find an appropriate one. This was in Chicago when Good was opening. (It's an awesome movie, by the way.)

Absolutely nothing of course. Why? Does it have any other meaning to you?

I was browsing through the forums today, and I saw something that made me unhappy: Now, why does the Twilight Disk look like that? In my opinion, the Twilight Disk should look more like this: (It would need some better photoshop work, of course.) But seriously, a Twilight Disk without Edward Cullen? That's like making a Narnia Disk without Peter Pevensie! (That is -MX-'s signature in the image, by the way.)

I love this sort of stuff, so I'll give my input: 1. I like the basic structure, SPIRIT, as well as most of the details. For Admins, I think that they are so special that each could be a form of Toa-originated Titan (maybe even kind of like Takanuva in 2008). OoMN might fit better in this case. Also, are we still implying that Admins are coming from the same Matoran, Toa, etc. rank and file? I think we ought to since example like black Six and Tufi Piyufi would suggest that a Matoran can rise to such status. I know that it isn't necessary to be strictly agreeable to Bionicle since obviously just by creating the project we diverge, but I would prefer something that is more agreeable if possible. 2. I see BS01 as existing, at any rate. We have a sub-forum for it, after all. Still, as was stated above, it deals with the official storyline. My idea there is that what it considers doesn't necessarily exist but exists in BZ-Nui's world as BZ-Nui would in the Bionicle world (or something like it). Consider it a form of science or religion, maybe. I like either a or b. 3. I'd like to revive Takua's idea: Can we not also search for sales updates on Amazon, eBay, and B&N? Should we include these places as well as being navigable? It's easier to accept BS01 because Crystal Matrix made it while a strong member of BZP. Now it has its own forum. It feels sort of like a vassal state or a protectorate to me more than something separate. We could include Bionicle.com, but I feel that if we do that it is an easy step to including a variety of other sites as well. Placing it in a fictitious, quasi-existing stay recognizes its relevance but draws a definite line between what actually exists and what doesn't. 4. Well, yes, but I'd rather see all of this determined first.

Saturday, a staff worker for the college arrived in Alumni Hall with her cleaning supplies to scrub off the grime and germicals left by the bustling, sometimes less than considerate college students that use the bathrooms on the first floor. On this day, however, she had more than the usual to sanitize - for along with the normal dirtiness, there was a filth greater than any natural process written on the walls. I can't repeat most of the language here, but the specific words aren't as important as the message of this bigoted script. In a direct response to the election of Senator Obama as the next president of the United States, the words sliced through the campus conscious like a rusty blade. "Lynch them all," it said, among other things with offensive words as well as meaning. Lynch them all? I can only hope that alcohol or some other substance was involved in impairing the judgement of this person or persons to the point where thoughts were not clear, but even so, that doesn't change the fact that such a horrid emotion was felt. And that is a sobering realization. I never thought that such an atrocity was possible when I was child, and even before Saturday I never thought I'd witness such dehumanizing bigotry (dehumanizing for the writer, that is). I was naïve, surely, but that doesn't change the fact that this came as a terrible shock. The University has done a less than admirable job reacting to this incident. Except for the hasty scrubbing away of the offending script, the University acting slowly, only holding rallies and speeches against it Tuesday and Wednesday. Student organizations did somewhat better, bluntly stating the poor showing of the community without reservations. I didn't even hear about it until Monday night, myself, and even then I didn't know exactly what had occurred. And although I may not be the most aware of what goes on in the wider community, I keep myself informed enough. This sort of thing should have absolutely zero tolerance, and the administration should have acted immediately - not so much to catch the individual perpetrator, but to purge the community of these evil sentiments, which apparently still persist. One individual can be confined, castigated, and censured, but such sentiments will infect the community much worse if left to fester in insidiousness ignorance of its members. For although this incident in intensity is something isolated, there is a basis of racial disrespect that is present allowing such intolerable intolerance to exist. Every time a joke is made about her ethnicity, every time he's described as being a certain way because of his race, every time we assume something about somebody simply because of their nationality or race, we contribute to this evil. Evil doesn't have to be spoken or scribbled on a bathroom wall. It can be thought. It can be felt. And either way, it's still the same evil. It's still the same harm. It's still the same reprehensible act. And it's still a problem in our society. So I'm typing today not to simply rant, but to preach. Don't let prejudice exist in your own community. If a friend says something, even if harmless, that is racially insensitive, call that person out. For in truth, that little comment, even in jest, is not harmless; it's harming. It's harming to others, it's harming you, and it's harming to that friend. Be gentle and considerate in your castigation, certainly, but castigate. Make sure that person realizes that his or her statement was racist and unacceptable. That friend may not realize it otherwise.

Some of you may have noticed that the title to the OGD has been changed from "Official Greg Discussion" to "Official GregF Dialogue". OMG, TWGE! No, the world is not going to end. We can still call it the OGD, and the name is actually an improvement. The word "discussion" has misled some people to believe that they are allowed to post randomly in this topic, crack jokes about Bionicle-related content, and carry on two or three sided conversations while everybody else is searching through the clutter of posts for GregF quotes. If you look at the first post of the topic, it states: Notice how the only thing that is under the "things to do" list is posting your Q&A. We leave a little wiggle room so that you can make commentary, but theories and questions DO NOT belong in that topic. Extensive commentary is also not allowed. Therefore, the word "discussion" was misleading. I deleted about 30 posts yesterday that were theorizing or commenting about things, and half of them weren't even directly related to a GregF quote. Electric Turahk and I have both seen a cycle of people getting way too out of hand with this until one of us posts here in bold letters for people to stop doing that. Then people tend to get the message and try to follow the rules, but after awhile this diligence erodes. When half the posts in this topic are discussion instead of GregF quotes, it makes it very cluttered and difficult for people to find quotes. The main function of this topic is to be a depository, not a place for theories. That's what we have the whole S&T forum for. There was also an interesting critique on my choice of the word "dialogue". Here is the post and my reply: But this is a dialogue. People ask GregF questions, and GregF answers those questions. That's two people talking: Feste: Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool. Olivia: Can you do it? Feste: Dexteriously, good madonna. Olivia: Make your proof. (Twelfth Night) Compare that to this: Utopia:1) Is it possible for someone to replace Mata Nui? (the Makuta of Metru Nui and the Barraki thought it is, Karzahni also, but is it really?) GregF: 1) No Utopia: 1. Is the job of maintaining the universe something only Mata Nui could do, or could someone else take up this position? GregF: 1) No, someone else can't do it unless they had the power of a Great Spirit. (Official Mata Nui's Status Topic) That's a dialogue. The name stays. If you have any comments, questions, or limericks about the change, please do so here. Do not use the OGD. That's not what the topic is there for.

On how many college campuses can you go out of earshot of all human activity, immerse yourself in nature, and see not only deer, skunks, and salamanders, but also coyotes? Yes, I mean -on campus-. There are some, I'm sure, but only a handful, I'd expect. Even colleges in remote areas tend to be either too developed or own too little private land. And even those in contact zones with larger fauna tend to have enough students and faculty to deter the activity of such animals except in the dead of night. I've asked a number of friends, and none of them have had such encounters on their campuses. When I go running on my campus's cross country course, however, I routinely see deer springing and leaping away. I used to think it was just in fear of my own bumbling along the trail, but this is apparently not so. The entire course is thick in the woods save the start and finish, and the school owns all of the land and some more around it. The town's population is sparse, granted, but still, I'm surprised by the seclusion available on these trails. I can run for forty minutes to an hour around them and not meet another human being. The other day, I turned a corner, and about 15 to 25 meters away was a coyote. It was about dusk, so I suppose it was a decent enough time for her to be out and about. Her eyes were almost gray and very startled. She tensed and bristled at the sudden sight of my panting form charging around the corner, a bundled runner decked with blue under armor and red headband and gloves (yes, I have ghastly color coordination). It took me a moment to recognize whether this was a coyote or somebody's dog, but as I slowed down and steadied my focus, I caught sight of the curvature of her mouth, the perking of her large ears, the texture of her coat, and the tell-tale dorsal stripe. She paused for the longest time, as if confused by this sudden encounter. Was this runner a threat? Had she chosen to fight, then I'm sure she'd have won. Perhaps she would have if she hadn't been alone. But she didn't. I suppose my audacity startled her even further than the initial surprise of having a human charging toward her. Springing to retreat, she pranced down the trail and out of sight. Thinking better of my choice of direction, I then turned around and went back the way I came, but the image of her stays in my mind. She is the first coyote I have seen in months, and I never expected to see one here on a college campus, even if I am in the middle of nowhere.

Here is an excerpt from something I was writing. I was plowing away, and this idea struck me as rather fun: And despite the musings of some thinkers and the professions of some philosophers, time, from the human perspective, perpetuates in a precisely straight and unbroken line. The only apparent shift or imperfection lies in speed: how quickly time appears to have been or be passing, which can vary from person to person, location to location, and, incidentally, time to time. As a unit whole, the human perception of time trudges onward at a constant speed, leaving all dreamers behind on a dusty trail of memories, regrets, and lost opportunities. The past is clearly seen and reviewed by human vision (through both the eyes and otherwise) because it has been experienced, and thus it can be understood. A metaphorical light can now glow behind these events and peoples, illuminating them to the present. Not all of these lights are equal in intensity, however, and they will eventually fade from the collective memory of human kind. Very prominent events or people have magnificent luminosities, and these can be seen and understood centuries later, but most are too dim to be seen from a year, a day, or even a second further along that speeding timeline. The present is easily explained as the point on this line occupied by existence. Although being experienced, much of it may be better seen from a distance, and it is easier to see a point in the context of the points around it. Furthermore, since people can be said to shine their own light, a particular person’s light essentially occupies a segment length proportional to that person’s participation on the line. A person living longer is more likely to be more luminous since that person’s segment is longer, but it is very possible to have very long and very dim lines as well as very short and very bright lights. This is the same for events and incidents. (Incidentally, the greater collective luminosity of all of the events and peoples of a particular point on the line, the longer it will be remembered as a significant time. It’s likely not a simple additive relationship (two plus two equals up to four), but it is still collective, just like present existence.) The future is, of course, the most interesting merely because it is the least understood. And perhaps it is because of this that the future is so difficult to see. Understanding and luminosity go hand in hand. From the human perspective, the future is rather dark. It isn’t completely black because humans have the ability to deduce the most likely possible futures and eliminate in their minds non-possibilities. They can, therefore, partially understand what the future holds, and as such a dim, grayish light might begin to glow from future events. (For instance, cyclical events like celestial and seasonal patterns can be easily, although never fully, understood, so they can be more easily foreseen than uncommon and (seemingly) erratic events. Predicting that the sun will rise in a certain distant time, however, sheds little light on the complete nature of that particular moment, however, so this really isn’t as useful as might be hoped.)

Until yesterday, I had never actually played American football before; in fact, I'd only ever thrown a football once in my life when my cousins and uncles were throwing one around at Thanksgiving and it somebody made a ghastly throw that landed near me. I put down my frisbee and lobbed it back, the football wobbling in the air like an erratic top. And yet somehow I found myself out on Whitnell Field playing a "pick-up" game with some people, mostly guys from around campus. I wouldn't have played, but my friend Sam's team needed an extra person, so I figured, "Why not? I like sports..." So there I am listening to the plays, asking "Okay, so what do you need me to do?" and playing "the line" against a very large, under armor-wearing man (he wasn't a boy; he was legitimately a man). I was relieved that this wasn't tackle football... Anyway, I started out rather rough, not following "my man" when he decided to break off and make a catch, getting a first down, and not understanding what to do when somebody yelled "Blitz!", but I slowly cuaght on to how things worked. The fun part was when we were on defense and the quarterback on the other team (yeah, I know who that is!) tried "running it" and I got to just dive at him and grip onto his flags, ripping off his belt. I was so ecstatic that it worked that I almost forgot to get bak on the line for the next play. I did something! The second revelation was that although we couldn't use our hands, I could block people trying to get our quarterback by simply getting in their way and making them step on me. It wasn't great for self-preservation, but it really helped our quarterback get extra time to throw. The highlight of all this, though was when, on the last play of the game, I dove at a runner, ripped off the flag, but also managed to grab his shorts, too. It was rather embarrassing, especially since he was a junior or senior and I'm a tiny freshman (okay, so I'm not tiny, but still...). He was really cool about it, but there were plenty of jeers from my teammates about grabbing the shorts rather than the flags. Hey - at least I figured out how to play defense!

Thanks. Yeah, this is something random I wrote a little while ago one night while I was sitting at a coffee house. I wanted to go up and read something, but I didn't have anything with me... So I wrote it there, read it, and then I polished it that night. I also thought that since my blog has been completely dead for awhile, I might as well stick it up here.

The Meaning of Life The prospect of discovering the answer to life was what had initially drawn James to the project. He considered himself a man of philosophy, and, naturally, this led him to the penultimate question: “What is the meaning of life?” (The ultimate question, of course, is: “How can I make money off that?”) The answer to that last question was actually answered before the first. For even before James began work on the project, he was informed that he would be paid millions of US dollars if he and his partner successfully discovered the answer. Being Canadian, this made James cringe, for he detested the lowly American dollar. What also made James cringe was the idea that that last question was so easy to answer while the preceding was so difficult. And even now, fifteen months, twenty-three migraines, and seventeen dead raccoons later, they still hadn’t found the answer. James and his partner Graham, a deranged, quick-minded physicist, had tried countless experiments and trials and had collected a mass of dead light bulbs and broken glass. Their sixteen-month research allotment was nearing its end, and they still had nothing. That’s why Graham was so excited that night. After such a long, torturous process, he now felt relieved to be occupied with a plan – a plan that just might work. It involved a fluorescent light, tungsten tubing, a fair amount of gold semi-conductors, some coffee cakes, and a variety of mirrors. When James walked into the lab after his dinner break, he found all of these arrayed on the far table with Graham, in pajamas, hunched furtively over them. (He had forgotten to get dressed again.) The room was stuffy and dank, so James assumed that Graham had been trying to use excessive amounts of water again. For some reason, Graham was convinced that the answer to the meaning of life must come from mixing water with electricity. James was more down to earth: he expected it to involve multiple dimensions and radioactive milk. He noticed that Graham had placed the light bulb in some water and connected it to the cakes. However, there was something different this time: instead of simply electricity, Graham was obviously trying to extract sub-nucleonic particles. It made James smile slightly to see Graham finally taking his advice. He gave a tap to the glass that protected the outside world from the exposed electrical currents and asked, “So, are the coffee cakes for eating?” Graham looked up at him, obviously not amused. “This is important, James.” Graham didn’t like jokes. He disliked laughing, crying, and pretty much every other human emotion. “All right…” James responded. “It’s a little stuffy in here, ay? Mind if I open a window?” Graham swung his head around again and looked James directly in the eyes before agreeing. “Yeah, okay,” he said mystically. “Just not too far open.” “Thanks,” James replied, promptly walking to the closest window and opening it just a bit. He rolled his eyes slightly at Graham’s insistence that the window be opened “not too far.” It wasn’t like it was cold out; it was two degrees Celsius outside! “Coddled Americans just always have to be comfortable,” James thought bitterly. James was just about to settle down to his research on pasteurization when a moth suddenly fluttered into his face. He swore, batted it away, and called to Graham, “Looks like we have a friend. You’d think the moths would be dead this time of year, too, ay?” Graham didn’t answer; his work was too interesting. But not long after, the moth caught sight of his fluorescent light. In the dimness of the room (dim so that the light of electromagnetism would be more apparent), Graham’s light was the brightest spot, the most enticing thing for a moth. The moth bumped against the glass encasement, frantically trying to break through and grab the glow of the bulb. It was very adamant, and no matter how many times it failed, it continued to try. “He’s a valiant little bugger, ay?” James commented, walking over to Graham’s station to investigate. “I guess so,” Graham answered. “The sad thing is, though, sometimes I feel sort of like that – a mindless moth banging my head against an unbreakable glass. I can see the answer in my mind, I can see how to get there, but whenever I try to grasp for it, I run into a brick wall. The meaning of life. It’s such a simply thing to ask about, but somehow actually getting there is the most difficult thing in life.” “That’s deep, Graham,” said James with a serious tone. “But look on the bright side: if the moth were to finally reach the light, he’d be fried up instantly. Something that intense might even kill you or me.” “That might be nice for the moth,” countered Graham, “but we’re not moths James. And we’re not trying to grasp at light. We’re looking for the answer to life.” “Well, in a way-” “Ah, it’s useless anyway,” Graham cut it. “We haven’t gotten anywhere.” “All I was saying was maybe it’s not an accident that there’s a ‘glass covering’ between us and enlightenment. Maybe we’re better off not knowing, ay? Maybe this invisible barrier is protecting us just like the glass protects that moth from certain death.” Graham pondered that thought for a moment. His face became contorted with thought. Then, a new idea striking him, he placed a gloved hand on the glass cover, looking at James for recognition. “What are you doing?” James asked. “Well, you said maybe the glass protects the moth, but I’m thinking maybe the moth’s better off reaching its goal and dying prematurely than never reaching its goal and dying anyway. Let’s give it a whirl, ay?” That last word hung on Graham’s mouth almost bitterly, as if mocking James. A maniacal gleam appeared in Graham’s eyes, the crazed light of a genius on the brink of discovery. “I’m about to get it, James; I can feel it. All I have to do is lift this glass and see what happens.” “Why, Graham?” James asked, scared of what the answer might be. “Don’t you see? The moth! It’s all in the moth! The meaning of life!” “Oh.” “I have to be the moth, James. I have to be the moth.” Graham shook his arms slightly as he spoke, almost as if he meant to flutter them like a moth. “All right, you do that,” James conceded. “I’ll just be right over here… behind the flame-resistant door.” James turned about-face and fled. He had a sinking feeling that Graham had completely lost it. Now he knew why he was using coffee cakes to find the meaning of life: Graham was crazy. James ducked down and waited for an explosion, a scream, something. But nothing came. He waited a minute, his temples pulsing faster with every second. Nothing. He called out in a weak, tentative voice, “Graham?” There was no answer. Then slowly, cautiously, he stood up and peeked through the window of the door behind which he had hid. Everything was still. The moth still fluttered beside the glass encasement, and the fluorescent bulb still shown with radiance. And there was Graham, shivering, undecided, debating whether or not he should lift the glass. James bit his lip, anticipating the next action. He hadn’t wanted to see the doom that would befall Graham during his craze, but now that he was watching, well, it was just so interesting. Graham took a deep breath and lifted the glass. The moth hesitated a moment, as if it were actually surprised to have its path lying clear. It was as if it was so used to being refuted its wishes that now that there were no obstacles, it didn’t know what to do. Then, it focused back on the exposed light and charged with furry at the enticing gleam. And as it touched the filaments of the light, a sizzle and a smoke engulfed the moth. Charred to a crisp, it collapsed lifeless to the table. Graham started to cry. His hand was still gripping the glass, but his other was at his forehead, hiding the tears that betrayed his emotions to his attentive audience. James didn’t understand what had just happened. He tentatively approached his partner. Never before had he seen Graham cry. Never. Why now? Was the moth really so touching and important? James searched frantically for something to say, but all that came to mind were horrible puns. He struggled for a moment, trying not to give in to the poor humor, but it was futile. “So, Graham,” he began, “why the burning passion for the moth?” Graham turned to him slowly, a reddened face glaring intensely back. “Don’t you see?” he exclaimed. “It’s the answer! I’ve found it!” James didn’t understand. “The moth, James, the moth. It’s in the moth.” James looked at the moth, but all he saw was death.

On February 10, 2005, I got a a little PM from mfuss903 asking if I would like to join the BZP Support Team, becoming one of BZP's new staff members. Back then, I had about 3,500 posts and about a year's experience on this website; most of it was in the S&T Forum. I was not well known outside of that S&T circle, and I remember quite a few comments wondering who exactly this new ST was in the promotion topic. More people knew Shannara back then, as he had already become fairly famous for MOCing. Funny enough, I barely knew him. Last night, my little post rank changed to something non-post related for the first time, and I must say that it was a fulfilling thing to see. I've had a few instances when I wondered if I would be able to continue my steady pace as a staff member and contributor to BZP, but somehow I've always managed to pull through. And although my time has been constrained so much that I rarely update this blog, I thought that this was a fitting time for reflection on what BZP has meant to me the past three years. More than anything, the steadiness of the website has been helpful. Just like everybody else, I have tons of problems at home, in school, at work, and in life in general. It's not easy, and having a day-to-day commitment to people I'll probably never see in real life can sometimes feel abstract. Furthermore, being a moderator can be mentally and emotionally straining at times, so it's not always sprinkles and bunnies over here. Nevertheless, BZP has endured and continued to grow, and I have had a helping hand in the growth for the past few years of the type that only a handful of other people have experienced. My mark has been successfully left on this website, and I'm happy for that. But BZP has also left its mark on me. Through the determination and constancy I've dedicated here, I have realized how strongly I can persevere in anything on which I set my will.

I still maintain that I get better material for quirky stories and occurances during the school year, but I have recently stumbled across another curious subject: my cousin's cats. He owns three, and they are all indoor cats that live in his two-room apartment at a boarding school dorm. On top of that, two of them of weigh over twenty pounds. (Surprisingly, his home actually smells decent.) The two main coons are name Calvin and Hobbes, and the other, a normal-sized white mut-cat, is named Sasha. Calvin and Hobbes are adorable - at first. They cuddle and play; they're excited to see me whenever I stop over; and they're meows are hilariously just like any other cat - small. Anyway, I've been taking care of these three for the past week while my cousin stays over in Virginia, and today is the first day I've actually seen Sasha. Unlike the other two, she is skiddish and shy, hiding somewhere small and cramped (and unbeknownst to me) in that tiny apartment. Cats are funny like that - if they want to hide, they'll find a way. And I might not have known that Sasha existed until today if it hadn't been for my cousin insisting he owned a third cat. Hobbes is another matter. He curls up on my lap and starts meowing happily. Then, he bite my hand, drag into his claws, and start licking it. It's hard to discern his emotions, as he shows affection with teeth, claws, tail, purr, meow, tongue, and all. But I'm farily certain that he's simply always happy. And then there's the calendar. One of the cats, while home without any humans, has been stalker my cousin's calendar and destroying it month by month. It used to hang above their cat dishes, but then I found it on the floor one day with April mutilated. I placed it on the counter out of their reach, or so I thought. Then, sure enough, August and March were attacked. Not wanting a reoccurance, I stored it above the fridge, but somehow, the cat (or cats, I suppose) found it and finished off August before extracting the rest of the months and littering them about the apartment. The only months left unmarked are December and February. I'm not sure if there's a reason, but I get the feeling there may be. Never underestimate the intelligence (or impertinence) of cats. So, it's nothing special, but I found it an interesting observation.

Thanks for all you've done, Bink, and especially in the way you're going out with style. So it goes.

Last night (or, this morning, rather), I had two very pointed experiences that I am fairly certain will stay with me for years to come. The first occured at a friend's birthday party, but that's a story for a later date. I only mention it now becasue it was at that party that I learned that Alice wanted to go to the Harry Potter Party at the bookstore a few towns north. Hardly anyone wanted to go beacuse it was so late, there would be a long line, and it would take ever so long to drive all that way. On a whim, I decided to go. Earlier, I had told myself that I would not be one of those freaks who sees the Odrder of the Phoenix premier or waits in frotn of a bookstore to buy Deathly Hallows, but somehow I ended up at the premier last Wednesday and was nwo headed off to a bookstore at 11:00 at night... But anyway, upon arrival, we saw a line of six hundred plus people from all of the surrounding towns. Many of my friends were there, but there was also a significant bulk of people I don't know, which, coming from the boonies, was almost more disconcerting. Still, it was incredible and inspiring to see that many people lined up for a book. A book. Alice and I mingled around the line, visiting people, slowly making our way to the back. There was trivia, giveaways, drinks and snacks, and way too many people dresssed up like characters from the novels. (Now that I will never do outside of a theatre. This brought us to the back of the line, and that meant at the other side of the parking lot and next to the county's big department store: the K-Mart. K-Mart was selling the books for $21.00 (which includes tax), whereas the local bookseller was selling for about $37.00 (with tax). Sixteen dollars is a big difference. Of course, the K-Mart wasn't supposed to be open at midnight. They never open that early. They weren't even supposed to have the Harry Potter books (it's a small K-Mart). But now they had them. The majority of people remained faithfully in line, waiting patiently to support their local merchant. Many had already given a down payment and now held their tickets as firmly as if they had come from Wonka bars, now giving these dleighting consumers the golden keys to a marvelous new adventure. I hadn't reserved a copy, and now I was standing there, next to K-Mart, watching as one or two people entered every few minutes to buy a much cheaper book. Jeers and shouts were given, and people who exited K-Mart with Deathly Hallows were given evil glances and deathly curses. They were cheatskates and traitors. As I entered the K-Mart, a lady yelled to me that her book would read better. I exited less than a minute later, and she was still half an hour away from the local book store. I sat down on the pavement and opened my new book. I began reading to myself, then I looked up and responded, "No, my book reads better - sixteen dollars better."

This was initially just a neat little idea I had for a content block, but it became something a little more interesting. As many of you who visit S&T frequently by now probably know, there are two new S&T Fact Team members. This got me thinking: We have a BZP Staff History Topic to keep track of official staff, but what about the "non-comissioned staff" like S&T Fact Team members? They have an added responsibility, and they do put in extra time for BZP, so why not have a place to keep track of the team's status as a whole as well as it's history? But there was one problem. Sure, it was easy to find the topic that was posted mere hours ago for our two newest members (Great Being #1 and The Infection). It was also easy to find the original list and topic, seeing as that topic is still being used for the S&T Fact Team. But there was a problem. There is one FT Member who slipped under the radar. How could this be? No topic? No definite date? This is unacceptable! I immediately searched my own PMs, as well as the official topics' list, the S&T Fact Team topic, the Suggestion Box, and even a strenuous search through the November and December topics from 2006 in S&T. Nothing definite could be determined, but I found some brackets: It was in between November 16th and December 30th. But when in those six months? I then PM'd the chap, as I figured that he might have some PM or such saying the actual date. Nothing (except, that is, about the same minimum and maximum as I had discovered). So, unless bonesiii or an Admin has hidden away some hidden proof of purchase, there will forever remain a gap in our knowledge of when that one S&T Staff Member (the first non-original) joined the team. Forevermore, he will be remembered (among other things) as the Stealth S&T FT: Utopia.

My history teacher said that half was minimum for a student to have any chance, and that the more that could be fit in, the better. He did caution us to not use more than we could handle, though, and to not use a document that will hurt an argument. On the AP, I ended up using all of the documents on the History and all of the documents on English. I didn't plan on doing that, but it worked out to be practical, so I went for it.

Anybody here who has sat through an entire AP course and grueling, four hour test knows what I mean when I say that AP is a strenuous experience for high school juniors. This past year, I took both AP courses that my school offers for juniors (yes, it is a tiny school without much variety, but that's another story). The first that we tested for was AP US History. My teacher was great, and one of the best people I know to quote, but we had to blast through a 32 chapter history book (1,022 pages) between August 30, 2006 and May 12, 2007. One week for the Civil War? That's ridiculous! But no, not with AP. That, of course, is the build-up to the test. First, there are 80 multiple-choice questions. In order to answer them all, you have to be better than one question per minute, and these are not easy questions. Do you know who wrote Silent Spring? That's the sort of thing that had to be answered (although, sadly, that question wasn't on the test). After the MC questions comes the DBQ. A series of documents are given and students have to write an essay about a time period in history, meanwhile hitting as many documents as possible. Luckily for me, I studied hard about the Grange, Alliance, and Populist Movements. After that, there are two half-hour essays. For each essay, there are two prompts, and each student has to choose one of the two. For the first, I choose a great question for me. I was born a few miles from where Shays' Rebellion ended, so I know that story from grandparents, never mind textbooks. The next was tougher, as I had to write a very argumentative essay about the second terms of LBJ and the Gipper. That was one. The next week I took the AP English Language and Composition Test (my teacher for the course, by the way, is probably the best teacher I've ever had). This one has a very similar format, but instead of US History, it's focused on English writing. I won't spend as much time here because frankly, it was less memorable. However, my hand was certainly just as sore. Writing that much in such a limited (yet still impeccably long) amount of time takes a toll on the hand. So, why in the world am I writing abotu the AP now? It's been two months since those tests! Well, today was the day that my test scores returned. I was incredibly nervous, so nervous, in fact, that I was shaking as I opened the envelope. And there it was: two 5's. I actually received the top possible score on both tests. It was exhilarating, really, and although I simply said, "Wow, I got a 5 on both" to my mother and then went back to reading TIME, I am simply ecstatic right now and had to let out the immense energy.

I was in a curious situation today. My parents are away, but the cats were out of food. In fact, the one cat was attacking me during the night for not feeding him enough. I dislike that. Anyway, my mother had left me with a grocery list (which included cat food), and a note that she'd reimburse me for everything I bought. There, at the bottom of the list were four interesting words: "what else you want." This meant that I good go to the grocery store and buy whatever snacks I desired without thinning my wallet permanently. Sounds tantalizing, eh? So, let's see what I bought: white cheese singles (which I can't eat) two bags of cat food (which I don't eat) 1 pound of ham a packet of tomato wraps (basically tortillas with tomatoes in them, organic and local, really nice) 5 nectarines And that's it. Yes, that's it. I was in the grocery store, which is large enough to have such edibles as ice cream, muffins, interesting fruit juices, and other delicacies I don't usually get to indulge in, but the sweetest thing I bought was the nectarines. I never bought "whatever else I wanted." Why? Why pass up that chance? I thought these questions as I walked into the house from my car. The answer dawned on me awhile later: I was in a grocery store. And that made everything make sense. I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. I didn't want to go browsing around the aisles. I detest grocery stores about as much as I do biting felines that puncture my feet. And that dislike alone is what caused me - subconsciously, mind you - to reject the opportunity presented to me.