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A Miscellaney

The struggle for diurnal programming continues! Yesterday's blow from the body: waking up at 3am bright and rested after 6 solid hours of restful sleep! Gee, thanks! Today's: 2am! THE SAGA CONTINUES!

In the department of recognizing what things hook to what other things, I am realizing that I have a genuine problem witnessing paranoia, even paranoia that has been made necessary by environmental circumstances. I will see something, and a little bell in my head will go "This is crazy behavior", and I will edge away from it nervously. So I'm wondering why that is. That bell turns into a giant shrieking alarm when I run into serious hardcore stuff like conspiracy theorists. I cannot be around that stuff, or the little person inside my brain that governs mental health and safety starts seriously having a riot in order to get me away from it. (Things like timecube, that's different. It's way too out-there and surreal for that part of my brain to recognize it as legitimately crazy.) But when crazy people are proselytizing their crazy, I need to be away from it, and I need to be away from it fast.

I have discovered that I am all about consistent user interface for page furniture, rather than having too many heavily contextual things changing and disappearing and becoming unavailable if the moon is full or something.

The guy upstairs has dog or dogs.

Fandom definitions: if you're using "slash" to mean something besides "same-sex pairings in fanfiction" (unless you're talking about sharp objects, a guitarist, or the loo), do not be surprised if the rest of your fandom does not understand you, and/or mocks you. Case in point: the guy who says that any pairing at all is "slash" -- ahahahahahaha.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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