Godelsensei

There are limits to free speech. Preaching hate and intolerance is not encompassed by the right to free speech. A Neo-Nazi demonstration is not something you simply have the "right to ignore" or a group "demonstrating their own opinion": it is a rallying cry for hatred and murder. Free speech is legally a right. However, this does not hold true in practice; it is a [b]privilege.[/b] If you cannot handle the freedom to express your own opinion in a civil, responsible manner, it is your own fault and in most cases, it will come crashing down upon you in one way or another. Additionally, I would like to point out that Neo-Nazi demonstrators ought to be [b]gunned down in the streets.[/b] People like that have no right to exist.

A lot of disease come out of Asia because many areas there are basically third world and also because, to quote a Shanghainese buddy of mine, "Chi-a-nese people can eat anything." Nothing against Chinese people, of course, but when it comes to food, there is a big problem with sanitation there. Add that to the huge population and you've got problems. Also, if it makes any one feel any better the whole SARS situation, though, sadly, it did take lives, was just a [i]tad[/i] overblown by CNN. Go through the VG Cats archives and read that one comic on the subject, because Scott Ramsoomair was right.

[QUOTE=Shinji]So there is quite a bit of evidence in the Bible and other sources like the Chinese legends to say that, in fact, people of thoise times had knowledge of the Dinosaurs. It essentially, comes down to wether or not you want to believe that when people were referring to Dragon, they were referring to Dinosaur. [/QUOTE] Kiddo, have you ever looked at early European illustrations of the dolphin? The damn thing looks like, oh...[i]a Chinese dragon[/i]. Early explorers first believed manatees were mermaids. Don't get me started on the rhinos.

[quote name='Dagger']Are you going to wear a tiara?[/quote] But of course! Also, if you're looking for a costume for some one with long dark hair, I can't help but suggest the morbid, beloved, bathes-in-the-blood-of-up-to-eighty-virgins-at-a-time lady vampire. It'd totally suit you. : P

Fairy. Fricken. Princess. My skirt: [URL=http://img308.imageshack.us/my.php?image=skirt3rp.jpg][IMG]http://img308.imageshack.us/img308/2342/skirt3rp.th.jpg[/IMG][/URL] All you people claiming to be "too old" to dress up--get a life. Honestly. That's like claiming you're too old for Christmas presents: [b]ridiculous.[/b]

When I first looked into DMC 4 and found some screenshots/wallpapers, my immediate reaction was, "Dante goes to Ottawa! Woots! : D" Overdone Canadian humour aside, however, I absolutely love the DMC franchise and am looking very much forward to the PS3 and the forth installment in the series. The only thing is, I'm afraid it'll be even harder than the third one. >>;; (Which is a good thing, I suppose, or would be if it weren't for the boomerang controllers liability to come back and clunk you when you chuck them in frustration.)

You know, it's funny, but I've never seen a single Canadian character in all the years I've been watching any kind of Asian (not even just Japanese) media, so I find it bizarre that any kind of stereotype would develop. That's not to say we're anything short of strong, smart, and hansom, of course. :3 (Indeed, we're quite lovely.) Anyway, I'm curious as to what anime in history has ever contained Canadians.

Somebody might remember I submitted this story a while ago. After writing the original in two hours and never fixing any of it up, I decided to re-write it, taking into account what suggestions I'd received on how to do so. So here it is. (Sorry for the lack of indentation--you know how forums are.) [b]Cat:[/b] [i]a rewrite[/i] Dolly was five and a half when her family moved from their farm out west and a little north into a house in the city. It was not an exceptionally large house or one of particularly inspiring design?three bedrooms, an admittedly spacious kitchen, and a handful of miscellaneous other rooms, all quite dreary. It had a front yard and a backyard and the beginnings of a garden out front. None of these were ever littered with toys; the driveway was not a canvas for chalk knights in shining armor; the closest the house ever came to appearing as though it might house children was when her older brother, Tom, left his shiny, red bicycle on the lawn while he darted inside to eat or do homework or draw between rides. The bicycle looked quite out of place in front of the house, bright, clean, and functional. It was that way because he took care of it, like he did himself, for the most part. Dolly did not see much of Tom and, consequentially, wanted to be just like him. But she was not allowed outside by herself in the city, so she would try and achieve this similarity by spending all her free hours drawing consistently pleasant images in thick marker and sticking them to the refrigerator. Dolly grew as proficient at drawing as any five and a half year old ever will and, thus, began to find the practice dull. And so, one day, upon noticing her father, or perhaps Tom, had left the garage door open decided she would go out. She darted from the house out the back door, while her mother bawled into the telephone towards the front of the house. She had not mentioned being upset to Dolly, who could only suppose it had something to do with the shards of a vase that had been intact when she left for kindergarten that morning. Dolly thought she remembered the vase having always rested on a desk back at the farm. Then, it had been full of flowers and accompanied by a small card, reading, Happy 3rd something too long to read, Ian & Victoria. It was older than she was, but she did not think on it very long?the garage and getting to it was what mattered right now. Creeping through the knee-high grass at the side of the house without being seen proved far simpler than she had anticipated. Upon reaching the front, she scurried into the darkness of the garage and behind some boxes, accumulating several bicycle-grease stains to her shirt, shorts, and shoes in the process. That was where she found him, tucked between an old motor, some tires, and a series of garbage bins. ?Green!? Dolly pointed an accusing finger at the even comparatively diminutive figure, having not missed a beat. ?You?re green.? ?Yes. I suppose I am.? The little man?s eyes were wide and yellow, the pupils immensely dilated in the shadows. ?People aren?t supposed to be green.? She crossed her arms over her little chest haughtily and demanded to know why he was in her father?s garage. The man recoiled a little, behind a garbage bin, as if frightened of her. His response, however, was somewhat inflammatory. ?This isn?t your garage. I?ve never seen you in it before?just the giants. One of them rides a bicycle.? ?Those are my family. Why are you here? Do you?? Suddenly, Dolly was fascinated by the little man and dropped down to her knees. She crept towards him. ?You don?t?live here, do you?? ?I don?t remember any place else, so I guess I must. Where do you live?? ?Outside. In the world.? Then, as an afterthought, ?I?m Dolly.? ?Ahh?the world. I?d like to see the world, but I?m too afraid. Perhaps when I?m older.? He moved towards her. ?How old are you, Dolly?? ?Five. Five and a half, actually.? At that, the little man gave out a cry of amazement and pronounced her as worldly as any one could ever hope to be. Dolly, ego now inflated to a remarkable degree, told him Tom was already twelve and could walk to school by himself. ?Oh, but how old and tired he must be already? What is school?? ?A place you go to learn.? ?Stories? Do you learn stories there, Dolly?? ?I guess so.? ?Tell me one!? His face lit up and then was all of a sudden disappointed when she admitted she remembered none of particular interest. ?I guess I?ll have to tell a story then. That?s all right, though. I like telling stories. They?re my favourite, you know.? The little man cleared his throat. He was completely out from behind the garbage bins now and seemed quite confident. ?Once,? he said, pausing for what must have been dramatic effect, ?there was a cat. A big one and orange, with the most beautiful whiskers you?ve ever seen. She had a giant, fluffy tail and could be everywhere at once she was so quick. But that?s not what was special about her?nope, no, not at all. See, she was a special cat, beyond being pretty and quick.? ?How?? ?She could fly Dolly.? At this, she wrinkled her five-and-a-half-year-old nose. ?That?s stupid. Cats don?t fly. It?s impossible.? ?Why?s it impossible?? ?Because of?because?? She could have said science, but thought that might be a touch too vague. ?Because?gravity!? There was an iota of triumph in her voice. ?What?s that?? The little man cocked an eyebrow. ?It?s this thing?this sort of sticky stuff all over the Earth. It keeps us from flying off into space. That?s what Tom told me and he knows everything.? ?Not everything.? ?What?? ?He forgot one thing, Dolly?birds!? ?Birds?? ?Birds can fly, can?t they?? ?Oh,? said Dolly, ?yes.? She supposed they could. ?This cat could fly, too, and always for a good reason. See, she?d help people?fly after things that blew away from them, like hats and umbrellas. She?d rescue little kittens from the tops of trees and catch little birds that fell from their nests and put them back, safe and sound, and very lucky. But?one day?? His voice grew melancholy. ?One day, she disappeared. No one knows where she went.? Dolly opened her mouth to ask a question, but felt a rigid hand on her shoulder. She looked up and behind her. ?Dolly! What on earth do you think you?re doing! Get back inside the house?I?ve been searching for you everywhere.? Her mother?s eyes scanned her small figure and bulged slightly. ?I am not washing this new shirt by hand. If that grease doesn?t come out in the wash, too bad.? She did not address the little man and when Dolly looked behind her, he was gone. That night?s dinner was spaghetti and meat sauce. Her father told her mother it was delicious, to which she responded by getting up and leaving the table. Dolly noticed Tom bite his lip. For a split second, she thought he might cry, then remembered that was something Tom was too old for. As she was being tucked into bed, Dolly asked her mother if she thought cats could fly if they really wanted to. ?Don?t be silly, Dolly. Of course not. They don?t have wings, do they?? ?What do you mean? Of course cats could fly if they really wanted to.? They looked up to see Tom standing in the doorway. ?Anything?ll fly if you hit it hard enough.? ?Tomas?? Their mother?s expression softened significantly. Dolly could only glance between the two, transfixed. She felt as though they had both forgotten about her completely. Then, breaking the silence, ?It?s time for bed?school tomorrow.? Tom abandoned the doorway quickly, their mother behind him. The next morning, at breakfast, Dolly asked her brother what he had meant the night before: ?Do you really think they could, Tom? I mean, if they really wanted to?? He stopped mid-motion in bringing a spoonful of Cheerios to his mouth, looked at her, and said nothing. The bags under his eyes gave the impression of his not having slept well in weeks. Dolly shifted her attention to the toast he had made her all of five minutes ago and did not speak again. However, in the privacy of her own mind, she wondered. She wondered and wondered and wondered, until it occurred to her she ought to ask the little man in the garage again, and, thus, she set out to do so. When she finally found herself alone in the great dark cavern of the garage, he was nowhere to be found. She wished she had found out his name, so she might call out to him. But she hadn?t thought to. He was gone. Several days later, Dolly found herself watching her father pack up his tools, toolboxes, old machinery, and just about everything else that wasn?t Tom?s bicycle. Her father emptied other things as well: his closet, the basement, a number of drawers. The whole time, he was silent?the entire house was silent. That whole day, nothing seemed to move. Nothing but Dolly?s father, who, once he was done packing, moved very quickly in the car and away. Her mother did not say when he might be back. It was in the middle of the day, a week later, after her birthday, that she saw her. She was bigger than most cats and orange. Her whiskers, though immense in length, did not droop. Her fur was terrifically thick?one could tell even from Dolly?s porch?and she yawned before crossing the road. It was the kind of yawn that put every other being in its place, the kind of yawn that might remind one of another cat, one they had heard of what seemed like a long time ago, from some one they had all but forgotten. Dolly thought she would ask her if she thought she could fly if she really wanted to; surely, on top of that feat, talking would have been positively mundane. She sprung up from her seat on the porch and made her way towards the creature and the middle of the road, her eyes all the while gazing ahead. She advanced across the lawn in what was at once both a walk and a skip. Her pigtails?the ones Tom had helped her tie that morning?bobbed up and down against her shoulder blades as a new array of freckles developed on her little face in the sunlight. The front door slammed and she thought she might have heard some one approaching from behind, but didn?t think on either of these things?her only thought was the cat. Her eyes followed its path across the street: the street she was about to cross herself when a pair of arms flew out from behind her and held her back, preventing her from doing so. Dolly would have protested if she hadn?t seen the car. It was moving too fast?too fast for a place where people lived. Too fast to stop. Even Dolly knew that. The cat didn?t. It didn?t stop crossing. It dared the car to keep coming, to try and hit it. It did. Dolly?s eyes could have been mistaken for saucers as she watched the regal, feline form fly through the air. It was a sight she had seen in her mind?s eye countless times, only viciously warped. She watched its form land at the side of the road. Its belly had not been split like other animals she?d seen at the side of the road. It was not flattened in any area?just broken. Broken and bleeding; its bones might as well have been jelly. Most horrifically, however, its body trembled with heavy breath?it wasn?t dead yet. Not quite. Dolly blinked. She looked up at her brother; he still had his arms around her, as if fearing she would run if he let go. Suddenly, she knew what he?d meant, all those nights ago, just before bed. ?He?s not coming back, is he?? Tomas began to cry.

[b]A)[/b] One thing that I find a little irritating at best is the presence of countless locked, but not deleted, threads, especially in places like the Anime Lounge, where most of the spammers seem to abide. (Before they're banned, that is.) It clutters up the forums and isn't really necessary, if the mods are trying to get a point about what not to do across. Perhaps if one excellent example of what'll get you labeled "SUCK" comes along, then I can understand leaving it present, but a handful of threads entitled "lolz i am luv inuyasha heartheart ^_^_^_^_^" gets old pretty fast. [b]B)[/b] Our lovely administrator, Skippedry (Dag). : D

[quote name='tasu22889']so your blaming it on me??why did yo ucal lme incompetent..all opinions may be open but keep those to yourself buddy,no one likes a smart allec who likes to make fun of newbies.I'm tryin to make freinds,but if i show my bad side to soon then i wont.so keep it to your slef or stay out of my threads.best option is to stay out.I'm not doing anything but if you wanna be a prick then stay away from me.[/quote] Uh, guy, he [i]so[/i] wasn't addressing you there, but the, you know, [i]authorities[/i]. Weather does this kind of thing every so often. It always has. God has nothing to do with it. ^_~

[quote name='Decadence][COLOR=DimGray']The war on porn. That brings to mind, images of soldiers occupying porn studios and peoples home computers, I mean if they can censor porn, whats to keep them from censoring dissenting oppinions, and then other relegions. Its just a downward spiral starting at something pretty low on the moral scale to some people. [/COLOR][/quote] Did somebody say, "China?"

My favourite is buying a huge box of the things wholesale at Chinese New Year--they're damn cheap[er than usual] for a couple weeks a year--and chucking them at people. Even if you don't know them. It makes them happy: "Hey, a cookie!" : D The best fortune cookies are like the best back-to-school merchandise--full of Engrish: [i]You will be have much fortune and esteem.[/i]

I believe he was a Raven, but he sat on the fence, doing no work, telling the animals that if they slaved without joy for their entire lives, they'd get to go to a magical land where cake grows on the bushes once they died. His name started with an "M", if I recall. It's a brilliant book and means a lot to me. I don't know if it's uncannily nerdy or just bizarre that my friends and I tend to make reference to this book at least twice a day in regular conversation, however. *eyebrow* A very funny thing I once heard said about it went along the lines of, "I just hate that book. It's completely unrealistic. The animals are just so [i]stupid[/i]." Made me laugh... ...and laugh and laugh and laugh. Until my sides hurt.

I didn't actually run, but I did walk a couple of kilometers in the pouring rain, and donated at least a small amount of money, so yeah, I took part. I think my school was actually featured on Global last night. It's pretty neat that the marathon is held all over the world--Asia, Europe...

[quote name='Decadence][COLOR=DimGray]This family (or at least thet [b][idiot][/b'] parents) are going to a church for aid about a secular issue in a secular school. [/COLOR][/quote] Never stopped an idiot before.