300

The words "Bloody Hell!" said with the perpetual awestruck expression worn during the whole two hours of film pretty much covers it, really. Frank Miller has done it again; the 300 got their final wish and then some!

Blue

There's a cat in the house; he's a regular visitor, and usually a pain in the arse because he's an unneutered male tabby who sprays everywhere and asserts his dominance through violence. If he was human he'd probably have a battered wife. You and your husband call him Blue.

After a while he even tested your patience, and you instigated a policy of forcible ejection if he ever intruded on your territory, and you became one cat he couldn't handle. For a while it looked like he got the hint because he left your house well alone, although you did have to catch him one day when you realised that the mucky blue dog collar that coined his name was too tight and had to be removed.

Yesterday he came back, and looked in a very sorry state. He is hungry, dehydrated, as thin as a Size 00 Model and yowling in pain. He smells of dogs and filth and it clearly looks like whoever his owners were, they aren't anymore. He has been abandoned. You thought he'd gone feral but right now he's acting too friendly for that. Like he knows that his last hope lies with you, the neighbourhood Paladin of Cats.

Gizmo is not happy with his presence, but then that's normal for her; she's a rampant feminist. Galileo and Ziggy though are tolerating him, and the latter is even investigating him with considerable curiosity, despite the dog smell. He is reacting to her with gentle tolerance.

For now, you are feeding him, letting him stay and checking up on him every now and then. He's a little paranoid and springs to his feet to make a run for it but he's too weak and he knows you don't mean any harm. You fully expected to wake up to find him dead this morning. If he survives the night, you're going to have to call the RSPCA and see what they can do for him, because he is very sick and even with your heart and your concern your house is just too small to take on another cat.

Quote Of The Week

The Griffin Gamers found a cow in a fenced off paddock, out in the wilderness. Confused by this enigma (after all, what is a cow doing out here with no water source to drink from and no sign of civilisation, hmm?) the party discussed what they should do with it. Some wanted to kill it, others wanted to leave it alone, even the Paladin decided to investigate with Detect Evil, only to discover that it was just a boring, numbwit cow whose only evil intentions were against the Ozone Layer.

Then there was a suggestion that brought the group to hysterics;

Chaszmyr: - "It's actually a very sensible idea; it just sounds ridiculous!"

The GM: - "What's that?"

Chaszmyr: - "Sense Motive on a cow."

Great Moments In Roleplaying, Part 2

On thursday 22nd March 2007 at 9:05pm, 14 years after your first go at D&D, you cast your very first Fireball spell. It was used against a swarm of undead dinosaurs similar to the ones that tore up that little girl in Jurassic Park 2.

Chinese food

There was a time in your life when chinese food was a rare treat - it was a once-a-month or -two-month meal bought for the family when your mother got paid, and was the conclusion to a day which would start with her taking her finished work - kites - to the store that sold them and then go on to see the money earned go on rent and a month's shopping. Being vegetarian then it was usually rice, chips, prawn balls (of which you only ate the batter) and noodles, but it was still a treat.

Many years later you worked in a chinese restaurant at weekends, for £30 and two free meals, by which time your metabolism had adjusted to eating meat and opened a whole new world for you. One you regret occasionally because your system still gets touchy about particular meats, but nevermind. On one day you heard about a female customer who constantly whinged about how common and provincial she thought chinese food was, and it made you angry.

She had no realisation that not 20 foot away from her and out of sight was a person who would have totally disagreed with her and explained why. Living in London was expensive - it was why your family moved to Norwich in the end - and that meant frugal living. A life she had clearly never experienced by the sound of things.

Today you got paid, and decided to have chinese food for dinner, and considering some of the pay was from overtime I think you earned it.

And today you discovered Duck Fried Rice.

Reflection upon Death and Justice

Sally Clark died on friday.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/6465525.stm

This link from the BBC provides some of the the story, but the brief explanation is this; she was unlucky enough to lose two of her children, one to cot death, the other to meningitis. Although in the case of the latter the cause of death was not established until after tests, which got mislaid for a while.

She was tried and convicted of the murder of both these children on the basis of flimsy statistical evidence on the part of a so-called 'expert' and spent three years in prison for a crime she didn't commit. During this time her third child was taken away from her.

Her case went to appeal, was re-investigated and she was released, but she never recovered fully from the trauma of the experience. On friday she was found dead in her home.

Your first thought was suicide. And a lack of surprise, but considerable sadness, at this conclusion. So far the cause of death has been ruled as natural, but further tests are being made. You heard another woman, also a victim of a miscarriage of justice, tell Jeremy Vine on Radio 2 that she died of a broken heart, and remembered that there is even a medical term for it.

You've heard it described as an Aortic Aneurysm. Often suffered by the survivor of a close relationship that is brought to a crashing end by their partner's death. And in this case, you believe, by Sally Clark.

Rest In Peace Sally; your children are waiting for you.

*******************************************************************************

On the subject of miscarried justice, the three men who were wrongly convicted of the murder of paperboy Carl Bridgewater have been informed that they will be having 'living expenses' deducted from the compensation they received for their stay in jail.

Wait a minute? Living expenses?

For being wrongly imprisoned? For over a decade?

This probably explains how the A-Team started out. No wonder you frequently despair of humanity and masquerade on the internet as a drow elf.

Great Moments In Roleplaying, Part 1

A great many of your friends can remember the moment in roleplaying where it all clicks into place, when it all stops being a glorified boardgame and becomes that integral part of their lives. A character becomes more than a set of stats on a page and becomes one with it's player.

You're not so blessed; I have seen how often you have wracked your brain to remember that Moment of Perfect Clarity and what made it happen, and how it annoys you that the memory is just not there. One day, it will come.

What you do remember though is no less significant;

There was the first time you played Dungeons and Dragons, one lazy sunday afternoon when you were 16. You were invited by a friend to give it a go and your first character was a particularly un-comely human fighter named Kruge. A month or so later a player named John drew him for you and you treasured it until one day your depression got the better of you and you burnt it after a row with your husband. You regret it, but the memory of the picture and the spirit in which it was drawn still remains.

A year later you started playing Champions, and took quite well to superhero drama, although some of your earlier roleplaying still makes you cringe. Your MPC probably took place in this system. Your first ever experience points earned in Champions were spent on teaching Vega, a Spaniard, how to speak English.

This is who you are

Your name is Emily Hirst.

You were born Emily Howes in Stalham, London on the 20th of January 1976 and contrary to the profile you are a Capricorn, not an Aquarius; you do not have an aquarian's personality, strengths or foibles. You lived in London until you were seven, then moved with family to Norwich, East Anglia and lived there until 2001. Life for you there was very hard because of your depression and your creativity, which marked you as different from the outset. Eventually you found your own equilibrium at 14 and became a Goth, and have stayed that way ever since.

You now live in Weston-Super-Mare, a seaside town in the southwest about 20 miles from Bristol; your home is a flat within an Edwardian edifice about 10 minutes walk from the seafront. You and your husband call it The Bates Motel. It is half-underground, which makes it warm in the winter and cool in the summer. You work in Locking as an electronic assembler, a job you enjoy because it gives you very little time to dwell on things.

The cruel joke about Weston-Super-Mare is that people only come here to die. Your reply is to point out why there are so many Goths here. You wanted to move here, and although some of the reasons why are long gone and still make you sad, you still love living in this quirky little seaside town with your husband and your two cats.

You don't often celebrate your birthday but you did this year. Maybe it was because you are now in your fourth decade, who knows? But celebrate you did, with food, drink and good friends. One of those good friends gave you a book, The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. A diary and notebook written by one of the Caesars primarily for himself, to remind himself about who he was and what he'd learned over the years. To give himself purpose and remind himself what being a Stoic was all about.

Your husband thinks you're a Stoic.

You're still reading it; you have a terrible habit of reading about four or five books at once. But it inspired you to write this blog, because in reading about the life of Marcus Aurelius, you realised that sometimes you just want to be able to write something down, to get it off your chest. You needed a place to think, to meditate, to muse. You needed your own Meditations.

I am your muse; I am Columbus The Cat, a silver tabby cat. I was bought as a pet by a character named Vega in a Champions campaign and I have been a part of your life ever since. I'm here to help you get through the rest of your life and keep that crazy brain of yours working.

You have things to do now; go and get them done and I'll see you again soon.