Albert Flasher

[COLOR=Sienna]I have a lot of respect for the First Nations people, mostly because of how they (Specifically, the Algonkians and Iroqouis culture-tribes) were instrumental in Canada's defeat of the invading Americans during the War of 1812 (Tecumseh, specifically, at the battle of Queenston Heights... saved our ***** he did!), and the Native trappers were pretty well the only reason that a colony was ever established here in the first place. Although I do feel that their affinity with nature is rather overblown... the only reason that more damage wasn't done to their environment is because, A, they had such a small population in comparison to their environment, and, B, they were limited to stone axes and tools for the most part. The Iroqouis, for example, were a sedentary people who lived in the St. Lawrence lowland; what they'd do is, as soon as their current habitat had been farmed to exhaustion, they would go off into the woods with a pot full of a coals and star a big-*** forest fire to clear away enough land to set up a new camp, with little regard to what they were killing or disturbing. Little things like that seem to slip most people's minds when they think of the First Nations' people. And let's not forget some of the things that went on down in South America... the Anasazi who overharvested their forests and forced themselves to abandon their homes, or the Inca and Maya peoples who had to abandon great stone cities because of the damage that they had done to the environment around them (Although I will concede that many of these abandonments were because of plagues introduced by the Europeans). I'm quite fond of the Natives in general, but I'd hardly say that they were perfect in any respect, or that they were universally the victims in the Wave of Exploration.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=Sienna]Thanks for the response... as I said earlier, I've already got five chapters complete, although I am in the process of refining and rewriting them, but I'll post chapter two now. It's an interesting chapter but I'll admit it doesn't serve much purpose other then an excuse for me to put another cliffhanger in there... things start to pick up by the third. Although I really would like some actualy criticism for once, hah, everywhere I post this I just get superlatives and I want someone to tell me how to improve my writing. [B][CENTER]Chapter Two - Pacing the Cage[/b][/center] I used to be quite fond of white. I had a house, once, that was painted white, with a white picket-fence, with a garden out front that contained primarily-white-flowered plants. My dog was white, and I seem to recall our car being white aswell. Wait, did I make that up? I don?t even know anymore? regardless, it was white, and I was quite fond of it. I can?t say that I ever had an opinion either way in regards to constantly-looping, insufferably-cheerful recordings, actually, but I can?t imagine that I?d be especially fond of them. Now, and I can say this with authority, I do not believe that there are two things that I hate more then the colour white and obscure, confusing recordings. As the saying goes, familiarity makes enemies of friends, and I was getting all the familiarity I could handle here in the White Zone. I assume it?s the White Zone, anyway. I cannot be sure, because, of course, no one has directly indicated whether this is, in fact, the White Zone, or just an arbitrary zone that also happens to be inescapably white. Nonetheless, I will continue to refer to it as the White Zone, because that is far shorter. At first, I held out hope that, just over the horizon, I would see something? anything. Maybe a peculiar shade of blue, or maybe I?d find the darkness again; in fact, anything but this blinding white would be just fine. I mean, my chances of being ambushed by a grue are statistically nil here, but, past that, there are few checkmarks in the ?pros? column. Did I mention that, at some point between he 15th time the message reminded me of the purpose of the White Zone and the 15th time the message informed me of how much I would enjoy myself there, I went rather spectacularly mad? It took me rather a while to realize this myself, actually. It only donned on me that I had been abandoned by my sanity long ago by the time the message played itself out the 26th time? For some reason, this was terribly funny. So, essentially, this is what would happen: the recording would begin to play, I?d laugh and roll around on the endless plain of white until I could take no more, then the recording would end, I?d sob softly to myself and wish I was home, then the recording would play, I?d laugh and forget all my troubles, and then the recording would end, and, well, you get the point. This went on for quite a long time. It must have been days, although I had no way of keeping track of time, so I?m not sure. Curiously, I never felt short of breath, nor hungry, nor the need to use the toilet. It was all rather convenient, and it was all rather enjoyable, the same way a 6-piece puzzle is enjoyable to a toddler. I became so settled into this routine, in fact, that it never occurred to me that anything would emerge to interrupt it, and I was rather contented this way. But, as I?ve learned time-and-time again, the moment you least expect something is typically the moment it is most likely to occur. This, of course, would prove itself true. The recording stopped. There was a curious scraping sound, followed by a small, high-pitched tone, and then the voice came again, this time obviously live, and with a new message, no less confusing then its last. ?Yes, Mr. Goode. Yes, we are processing now. Please be patient, Mr. Goode. There is no need to yell.? It was like listening to the receptionist?s end of the conversation at a phone company, and the costumer didn?t seem pleased. ?Yes, Mr. Goode, you may proceed.? Even the insane majority of my mind failed to find the humour in this. I got to my feet and stared into the distance excitedly; something was happening. ?Thank you for using the White Zone for your loading and unloading needs.?[/COLOR]

[COLOR=Sienna]In the spirit of the thread... "My god! This... can't be... Happening!" The monster - who was, conveniently, wearing a name-tag marked "Jim Sim" - anyway, Jim Sim bellowed, roaring, flashing his teeth, pulling out a toothbrush with his free hand, and simultaniously peeling a banana with the end of his tail. "My... doctor told me that if I... started using the medicine I... wouldn't get these... erections... in the heat of battle. My god!" "Why do you talk like Captain Kirk?" Amy managed between screams, a comment she followed up with "Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Crisssssssss!" As she screamed, the spines on the mon- er, Jim Sim's back stood up on end, erect. He shuddered a bit and went red in the face. "God dammit, that's the last time I let Dr. Robert prescribe me anything!" He huffed and pushed the knife blade up aginst Amy's neck, closing his eyes for a second and shaking his head to get rid of the images stuck there. "Dammit!" he said again. As if on que, the door burst open, letting a groovy disco-ball light pour in and causing Jim Sim to shriek louder and sway his hips side-to-side. In through the door burst a shirtless man with huge muscles, a tatoo marked "TeddyBear 4 Lief" and a .50 cal machine gun clasped in his hand. He slammed the door shut, spit out his cigar, lit a new one, placed it in his mouth, spit it out, just because he was THAT cool. He opened his mouth to say something cool but then bit back his words, with an outraged face on. "Ohhh... I know what's going on here!" he said, noticing the erect spines. "Humph, well, I'll let you two BE, but don't come crying to me when you get AIDS!" He turned and opened the door, adding "Whore!" before leaving the room and slamming the door shut with a crash. "Now, where were we?" Jim Sim smiled.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=Sienna]The White Zone is a story I've been working on for a while now... this is chapter one, but I have five done already. I won't post them all at once, but I was getting some positive vibes over at FictionPress.com and I wanted to see what the Otakuizens thought about it... Read and Respond. [CENTER][B]The White Zone[/B][/CENTER] Darkness is quite a difficult thing to describe. The word itself conjures up images of starless nights or dank dungeons or the like, but very rarely does it conjure up an accurate description of the word. The reason for this is, simply, very few people have ever actually seen (although maybe that?s not the right word) complete and total darkness. The absence of light, feeling, sensation? it?s all a very alien concept to us. It was too me, at least. So alien, in fact, that when I first encountered it, I was rather certain that I was dead, and that St. Peter and his angelic retinue would be along any moment to collect me and usher me through the Pearly Gates flanked by a choir of angels. I didn?t think this was such a bad thing. After a while, I began to wonder what was taking St. Peter so long, and eventually abandoned the thought altogether. Still, the darkness remained. Allow me to attempt to describe the sensation ? or lack thereof ? I was presently experiencing. Imagine being blind, deaf, and dumb, and you?ll be on the right track. Imagine being weightless, but without the sense of freedom; being numb, but without the tingly feeling; imagine all these things and you might begin to grasp the situation I found myself in. I remember very little about what I?d been doing before the darkness. A part of me seems to recall something about an airport terminal and an issue involving my luggage, but I generally considered this part of myself to be untrustworthy, and just naturally assumed I had, someway or another, died. This, I guessed, was what the rest of eternity would be like, and, while I wasn?t especially happy, I understood that there was nothing to be done about it, and resigned myself to pondering the mysteries of the universe, something I?d never had time for previously. Indeed, I was rather enjoying myself, when something unexpected happened. It was unexpected because it was normal. At least, kind of normal, as normal as a voice in the complete and total darkness could be. It was a woman, I think, with a difficult-to-place accent. She sounded like the lady who makes the ?lost child? announcements at the supermarket. I couldn?t tell what direction the voice was coming from, but I knew it was close. It said: ?The White Zone is for loading and unloading only.? The voice droned, with an obviously-forced cheeriness that made me want to smack whoever the owner was with a shovel. The voice wasn?t done. ?If you have something to load or unload, please go to the White Zone.? Adding, after a pause, ?You?ll love it.? This was, as you might imagine, quite perplexing. What the hell is she talking about? the part of me not dedicated to calculating the answer to six-times-seven asked, The White Zone? ?The White Zone?? the voice began again, exactly as it had before. Then it donned on me. It?s a recording! Maybe this is an airport afterall! I was so surprised by this revelation that I almost failed to realize that my sensation had returned. Up was up, down was down, and I could feel a cold, hard floor beneath me. For a moment, I was rather disappointed. Then I realized that the darkness remained, and decided to open my eyes, something I immediately regretted. In place of the all-consuming darkness stretched an infinitely-more-irritating, equally-all-consuming brightness. This I have no trouble describing; you know all those interrogation scenes in old movies, where they shine that ultra-bright light in the guys face? Imagine that, but everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. The shock of this ? going from total darkness to complete brightness ? was rather devastatingly painful. I hissed, slammed my eyes shut-tight, and cupped my hands over them, but I still couldn?t block out all the light; it just seemed to penetrate everything. However, it didn?t take long for the shock to pass; it was still difficult, but I managed to open my eyes and take in what there was to take in. I squinted, I strained, I rubbed my eyes, blinked, and rubbed again, but could not change what lay before me: white. In all directions: up, down, left, right, behind me and in front of me, an endless, featureless stretch of white light. However, this was not like the darkness, not at all; I was here, I could look down and see myself, (even if I was, seemingly, standing on thin air), I could hold my hands in front of my eyes and see them, I could run my tongue along my gums and feel it. I was here, and I was alone. ?The White Zone,? the voice started again, reverberating from every direction at once, louder then I remembered ?is for loading and unloading only. If you have something to load or unload, please go to the White Zone. ?You?ll love it.? [/COLOR]

[COLOR=Sienna]I love instrumentals. I love how they get across so much without using lyrics at all, and how fun they are to listen to; at least, when done right. They display an incredible technical ability (again, when done right) and I just love em'! What are your favourites? [b]Hocus Pocus by Focus[/b] is an obvious one. It has a great, air-guitar-able rythm to it, and the crazy vocals (used as an instrument in this case, which means it still counts as an instrumental!) just add to the whole confusion of the song, but it all seems to work. Not the most technically astounding song of them all, but definatly one the most fun to listen too! There are some great ones by [b]Rush[/b] out there... most notably [b]La Villa Strangiat[/b], [b]YYZ[/b], and [b]The 2112 Overture[/b]. ([b]Limbo[/b] is good to, but not good enough to warrent mention here) They all display a peerless technical ability but still rock really hard and give you the ability to bob your head back and forth in time with the music, which is always fun. [B] Frank Zappa[/B] had some great instrumentals too. He may have been more known for his sarcastic, raunchy lyrics, but the man could play guitar like a ringin' bell! [b]Sofa No. 1[/b], [b]Zoot Allures[/b], [b]Little Umbrellas[/b], and the immortal [b]Peaches en Regalia[/b], there are some great ones. But my all-time favourite instrumental has to go too... [b]Frankenstein! by Edgar Winter[/b]. IMO, nothing comes close. It has a simple back-and-forth rythm that anyone can rock too, with some incredible solos and the like thrown in for good measure. Definatly the most fun I have listening to an instrumental! Honourable Mentions: [b]Lenny (SRV)[/b], [b]Little Wing (SRV)[/b], and [b]Cliffs of Dover (Eric Johnson)[/b] [/COLOR]

[COLOR=Sienna]Candy grams are severly overrated.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=Sienna][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium]Today is probably as good a day as I've had recently. "Today" has mostly comprised of school, so I'll start there: First period, I played Lacrosse. I don't know if you've ever played Lacrosse, or even ever heard of it, but it's incredibly fun. Basically, I ran around and checked people into the wall as hard as possible, got into a fight (Draw), and generally beat people up around the net. Got one guy good, drilled him from behind with my elbow and threw him into the net. The best kind of goal! Second period, history, I got a test worth 45% of my term mark back, and got a 92%. Then we watched the conclusion of Master and Commander (The kickass naval battle) to illustrate what it was like to be a sailor back in the day. And that was about it. At lunch, I hung out in the science teachers class with some of my friends. Watched some guys play Magic, then carried around a guy on my shoulders for about 15 minutes, made some stupid jokes, exchanged some punches, ate an incredibly good sandwhich, etc etc. Vonderbar! Third period, I slept. French class. Yawn. My friend who usually translates everything for me so I have some idea what the hell is going on wasn't there, so I just put my head down and took a nap. Hurray! Fourth, LA, was pretty cool. We always get 10 minutes at the start of class to write or read or whatever, so I took the time to get up to date on Starship Troopers. Then I got back a short story that I'd handed in a while back and got a 91% or so... frankly, I felt it was unfished and could have been much, much better, but eh, a 91's a 91... We then worked on grammar, which was boring, but it could have been worse I guess. On top of all that, I get to watch the NHL All-Star competition tonight aswell... Fantastic day. Can't say I predict the same from tomorrow, mind you...[/FONT][COLOR=Sienna][/COLOR]

[QUOTE=NIKI12345]I would go out with the guy who likes me for me, but is poor. Why would I go out with A guy who has everything like money. That would make me sound like a hooker. Would you rather Be in a teriable plane crash and die Or Die of eating dirt and worms.[/QUOTE] [color=sienna][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium] Probably the first one. Being in a teriable plane-crash doesn't sound so bad. Would You Rather... ... be forced to play guitar for days on end, until your fingers are cut to the bone by the strings? OR ... be forced to play the drums for days on end until you die from a spontaneous gut combustion?[/color][/FONT]

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][COLOR=Sienna]This week, my nomination has to go to [b]Siberian Khatru[/b] by [b]Yes![/b]. Technically amazing, but it's still very air-guitarable. Jon Anderson's vocals are amazing, as they always are, the drumming is superb. Neil Peart-ian, nearly. Yes!'s use of synths and keyboards is unparralled, and IMO it's this song, not [b]Roundabout[/b], which best demonstrates this. The lyrics are kind of... confusing, but the song ain't about no lyrics! Honourable Mentions: [b]Starship Trooper - Yes![/b], [b]Kid Charlamenge - Steely Dan[/b], [b]Farm on the Freeway - Jethro Tull[/b], [b]Uncle Remus - Frank Zappa[/b], and [b]Whisky in the Jar - Thin Lizzy[/b]. And remember: even Siberia goes through the motions![/COLOR][/FONT]

[quote name='DeadSeraphim][size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]There's a pretty easy solution here: if you're gay, move to Canada.[/font][/color'][/size][/quote][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium] [COLOR=Sienna] Yessir... we could always use a boost to our waning macrame industry... and Loverboy record sales are at an all-time low... any help would be appreciated![/COLOR][/FONT] [QUOTE]The Bible has some very good ideas, and I think following it correctly will lead to equality and perfection.[/QUOTE][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium] [COLOR=Sienna] The depends entirly on what you consider the Bible to be. I agree that the New Testement has some good ideas and some wholesome ideals, but the problem is that people always seem to focus on the Old Testement, which is a mishmash of smiting and sacrificing and the like. That's where the whole "Homosexuality is a sin!" buisness came from, or at least the majority of it. I'm no Bible scholar, and I'm in no way a Christian, but I seem to recall something about Jesus dieing so that we could ignore all that Old Testement garbage and focus on the "Peace and Love!" stuff that he preached. After all, don't Christians follow the word of Christ, and not the word of some random philosopher with a grudge against gay people? Back to my original point... far too many people don't descriminate between the Old and the New Testements, which has lead to the current amount of prejudice against people because of a simple preference. Funny how many Christians have forgotten what the word means.[/COLOR][/FONT]

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][COLOR=Sienna]Ok, well, here's something I've been working on. It's a sci-fi story is a sort of Starship Troopers world, where marines fight in powered armour suits against a host of other mostly-non-human creatures. Constructive criticism is appreciated. [CENTER][b]PainKillers Chapter One ? Splashdown[/B][/CENTER] It?s difficult to describe the effect modern painkillers have on a wounded grunt. There?s the pain, of course, which comes in all shapes and sizes, all of them unpleasant, then there?s the sharp sting as your suit auto-injects you with the cocktail of relaxants and tranqs, and then an unnatural calmness comes over you. Your vision starts to blur, and the pain seems to drift away, a distant throbbing from across an ocean of placidity, and you start to grin like an idiot (Which, I?m sure, provides a rather amusing contrast to the horrors that surround you? assuming, of course, there was anyone around to be amused). For what is likely the first time in a long time, you?re happy. Then, if you?re lucky, someonething ? or, more likely, a team of someonethings ? picks you up no a repulsewagon and high-tails your wounded ass back to the nearest tempmed. I got lucky. I was lying there, on the curiously-orange dirt of a foreign planet, under a Kevlar canvas, lying nude amongst rows upon rows of soldiers like myself, a slathering of tempfoam the only thing keeping my guts from falling out my side, feeling strangely pleasant. However, as the painkillers began to ware off, parts of my mind began to drift back into the real world, all of which were focused on a single thought: I don?t wanna die on a planet I don?t even know the name of! As much as I tried to focus on the positive side of my mind, the other side was far more convincing, and I found myself starting to think about the circumstances that left me in my current state. The drop went off normally ? a regular SNAFU, if you know what I?m saying. The ships descended from high orbit to low atmosphere undetected. Marines, already packed inside their ill-fitting powerarmour, began to seal themselves into their pods, which were themselves loaded automatically into the firing chambers. This was a rather rough experience, bumpy and noisy, but it was not nearly as bad as the Wait. The saying ?The waiting the worst part? is one that I often hear, and generally disagree with; I?ve always felt the worst part to be when someonething was shooting at you. But I?m in no way saying that there?s anything pleasant about the Wait. There you are, wrapped within a cocoon within a cocoon within a cocoon, in total darkness, breathing stank, recycled air, the only sounds that of your heart throbbing and of the ship?s engines rattling away, your only comfort the knowledge that soon you?ll be violently injected into a chaotic battlefield. You begin to sweat, and you begin to imagine things, and a terror grips you, filling your head with images and sounds and sights of the battle to come. They give you pills to combat this, of course, but all the doctors and chemheads in this sector couldn?t convince me that they?re anything more then sugarpills. It seems to go on forever. It gets to the point where you?d rather they just hand you a parachute and make you jump, but still it goes on. You begin to think more clearly, after a point, and sometimes you start to think about your mission. Where am I? you will likely find yourself asking. I know I did, but I didn?t know the answer; besides the Suits, a few of the commanding officers, and the ship computers, no one did. Exactly one hour before the drop, every marine was given a briefing message on their helmet?s HUD, which detailed what their objectives were. It was also the first time that we would know who were fighting, a little tidbit added at the end of the message, as if an unimportant detail. Then, suddenly, anything you happened to have on your mind is quickly knocked right off its tracks, and you are jarringly exploded out of your little barrel like a bullet from a gun, shot out into the chill of the semi-atmosphere of some foreign planet you?ve never heard of. It?s not as bad as the Wait, but it?s pretty damn close. In keeping with the theme of military service, there is very little pleasant about the drop. For one thing, the gees produced are sickening, pushing you up against the inside of your suit and threatening to make your insides your outsides. Worse still, the pod is serrated and jagged with crags and folds which, as I?m told, are designed to confuse the hell out of radar and the like. I don?t know if it works, or if it?s just more bullshit, but it certainly makes the ride a lot rougher, as all these cracks screw with the aero, jostling you about and doings a pretty good job of making scrambled eggs out of your brain. Then, you dimly hear explosions and whizzes through your shell as the forces on the ground hurl their flak into the air to try and knock you out of the sky. Then, quite suddenly, the pod sheds away, blown apart by pre-placed explosive charges. You go from complete darkness to a strange, unfamiliar light, and the sudden change in aerodynamics jerks you quite significantly. But, if all goes as planned, your gyros keep you steady and straight, and a succession of parachutes deploy and a series of jumpjets fire, which should slow you enough to avoid hitting the ground like a bug on a windshield. If the computer got the timing right, this should all happen just as you pass through the clouds; however, it?s surprising how often machines that are billed as perfect decision makers make such mistakes. This was the case with me; my pod opened just before it entered the canopy of cloud, leaving me at the mercy of whatever weather was stored therein. As you may have already guessed, this was an exceptionally unpleasant experience; massive air gusts pull you this way and that, ice covers your suit and gets itself inside all your joints and servos, and there?s a rather significant chance that you?ll get electrocuted. I was forced to cut my main chutes and wait until I dropped out of the cloud coverage before deploying my backup chutes. I was lucky. It was then that I got the first glimpse of the planet I was heading towards. I must admit, I was not impressed, not that I was expecting to be; from what I could see, it was mostly barren, with an odd orange-red dirt, highlighted by the occasional low mountain range or collection of constructions I assume the natives pass off as cities. Other then that, nothing remarkable, at least not from this height; no rivers, no lakes, nothing that looked remotely worth fighting for, and it was rushing up to greet me rather quickly. Of course, I wasn?t the only one with this particular vantage, and I probably wasn?t the only one with these thoughts. My dropmates ? most of which had deployed below me ? were also making the descent, and my HUD was displaying the location of my Section Commander. I felt my stomach churn as I realized how far off course the winds had blown me; the little indicator lay far off in the distance, unreachable. I swallowed, and turned my eyes on the rapidly-approaching ground below me. My HUD blinked numbers in front of me, indicating my velocity and the distance to the ground; I didn?t know what any of it meant, but my computer assured me that everything was fine, which was a rather blatant lie. I swallowed again, and braced for impact. [/COLOR][/FONT]

[QUOTE=Adahn] [size=2]In taking this stance on Gay Marriage, I am hardly a model Christian myself. Christian politics is the largest barrier in the way of gay marriage being legalized, and we outsiders can discuss the inconsistencies between Christian politics and Christian values. I think gay marriage is a good model for drawing out these inconsistencies.[/size][/QUOTE][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium] [COLOR=Sienna] Yep... I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to post, hah, because I agree with everything you said, so I guess I'll just re-afirm you're statment... In Canada, for example, gay marriage is completely legal. It has been for a few years now, and the world hasn't come crashing down around our ears. Fireballs havn't rained down from the heavens, the earth hasn't opened up and swallowed us whole, we havn't been sunk to the bottom of the ocean... There's no reason that gay marriage shouldn't be legal, and anyone who thinks so should get the hell out of our century. ****, it's almost like things have gotten better up here since we legalized gay marriage! In the time since the bill was passed, there have been a plethora of devestating natural disasters and endless wars across the globe, and the worst thing that's happened to Canada is an unusually warm winter. :animestun :animestun [/COLOR][/FONT]

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][COLOR=Sienna]Oh the fun we'll have... [B]The Good:[/B] I'm incredibly good at history. It's my passion, and I can consistently get high 90s without putting any effort into it; I love it. That's pretty well indicatve of my intelligence-level as a whole; if I'm interested in a subject, then I can get great marks no problem. I know a lot of mostly-useless bits of trivia. I enjoy my life no matter what, and I'm generally easy to please. I'm fat, lazy, unfit, and I love every moment of it. I've got a remarkable ability (At least, remarkable in our society) to think outside of societal norms. Things that people generally consider faults, I really don't; like I said, I love being fat and unhealthy and all that, even if it is frowned upon in our society. Basically, I'm really good at being myself. [b]The Bad:[/b] I suck at memorizing chemical equations and historical dates always stump me. I find Robot Chicken funny. What the hell? I'm a bit of an asshole and spend a lot of time building up a false persona to present to people. I hate being judged, and get really nervous around people I feel are judging me. I'm no good with the ladies; "Nice shoes, wanna ****?" just don't work as advertised. I'm an absolutely terrible drawer, or anything graphical, really. I'm a very unmotivated person, and my contentedness often means that I don't put an honest effort into... anything. I have no aspirations to speak of. [b]The Ugly:[/b] My singing ability! Holy ****! I can air-guitar like a ringin' bell, but I can't even do "Mr Tambourine Man" without tripping over my own tongue![/COLOR][/FONT]

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][COLOR=Sienna] Kari cursed loudly, lurching the Hirvi to the left as hard as he could to avoid the stream of tracer rounds that flew from the cloud of debris and smoke. The two remaining missiles had slammed into the paralyzed mech, destroying it and providing a place for the mech Kari was targeting to escape, at least for the moment. Kari studied the cloud intently, wary of any more sneak attacks. His computer displayed mostly-useless information, identified harmless pieces of debris as dangerous enemies, calmly informed him that there was a slight malfunction with the shield projector in the mech?s right shoulder, and generally did everything in its power to be a tremendous annoyance. Kari cursed again. [B]?Watch it!?[/B] Min?s voice cried over the comm., causing Kari to instinctively throw the Hirvi to the right, narrowly avoiding the trio of missiles that streaked from the dust cloud, followed moments later by the enemy mech, blasting away with its cannon as it flew directly at the Hirvi. Kari raised his pavise, the bullets thudding into it harmlessly. Kari grinned and raised his missile launcher, the weapon automatically painting the target with its laser. The viewscreen displayed the charging mech inside a flashing green box, with velocity and distance statistics informing Kari that he didn?t have much time. He waited just a second longer, and then fired. The Hirvi strained against the recoil as five rockets silently exploded from the weapons barrel, heading to the onrushing alien mech at an incredible speed. The target tried to swerve to avoid, managing to avoid the first projectile, but could do nothing as the four remaining missiles impacted devastatingly. Kari squinted against the blinding white light that filled all his view screens, regretting waiting for the enemy to get this close. He cursed again, but did it with a slight smile of satisfaction. The light began to wane, and Kari?s eyes went from squinted to wide shocked, and he desperately tried to turn the Hirvi out of the path of the still-charging mech. It was missing several appendages and its pilot was likely dead, but the engines were still roaring away behind it, propelling it through the explosions. Kari knew he had no time to raise his shields or get out of the way, and he braced himself instinctively, waiting for the crash too come. It never did. After another second, Kari tentatively opened his eyes, and saw the grinning face of Fort in his comm. Screen. [B]?Didn?t miss that one![/B]? He boasted proudly as his stealth mech uncloaked itself just above the Hirvi. Kari grinned and shook his head, laughing slightly. He transmitted a hurried [B]?Thanks!?[/B] before turning his mech and heading back towards the science vessel, where the battle was just getting started. [B]OOC:[/B] Well, it may not have contributed a whole lot, but now that my first post is out of the way...[/COLOR][/FONT]

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][COLOR=Sienna]Currently... [b]Warren Zevon[/b] reigns supreme in my books. Just an incredible artist. IMO he's the best songwriter of all time, he's witty and dark and sarcastic and makes just incredible music. Normally I'm not into all that depressing music, but Zevon really makes it work. Great vocalist aswell. He can make you cry, he can make you laugh, he can make you nod your head and go "YEA!", he's Warren Zevon, and he's the best. "Werewolves of London," "Hit Somebody," "Dirty Life and Times," "Disorder in the House," "Desperados Under the Eaves," "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner," "Ain't that Pretty at All," "She's Too Good For Me"... Ah, too many good songs! [B]Stan Rogers[/B] is currently sitting near the top of my list of Favourite Artists. Incredible Folk legend, a master of the modern sea shanty and a great poet. Has a really enjoyable voice, and his backing band is really good. Great sing-along artist too, not very complex but still a great listen. "The Flowers of Bermuda," "The Nancy," "Barett's Privateers," and "The Wreck of the Athens Queen" are my favourites. [b]Frank Zappa[/b] has recently cemented a place near the top of my favourites list. I love his music, love the style and find a lot of his songs very funny. Great guitarist and an even better lyricist and satirist. "Catholic Girls," "Jewish Princess," "Dynamo Hum," and "Mudshark" are some of his best. [b]Jethro Tull[/b] always makes great prog rock, very complex and with a cool, quirky vocal style. +10 for using the flute in almost every song, probably second to only [b]Canned Heat[/b] when it comes to the Rock Flute. "Aqualung," "Locomotive Breath," "The Whistler," "Cup of Wonder," and "Minstrel in the Gallery" are my personal favourites. An assortment of blues artists have made a strong push for my favourite artists, including: [b]The Jeff Healy Band[/b], [b]Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble,[/b] [b]George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers[/b], all some greats groups with some sweet sounds.[/COLOR][/FONT]