Sunday, February 17, 2008
Post delayed
I tried to write another episode of Jonathan Wyndham, but it needs some refinement before I post. Don't worry, I'll put it up as soon as I get it done.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Escolia- Introduction to Jonathan Wyndham
Jonathan Wyndham gripped the smooth controls of his class C4 starship in eager anticipation. He had just seen a small asteroid cluster in the center of the Escolian galaxy, only slightly out of his way, and decided to fly through it, a sort of testing ground for his new and very sleek intergalactic star-voyaging machine. If anyone had been watching, this would be a moment that would have gone down in history. Jonathan Wyndham conquering the first of his most perilous trials.
The fearless and intrepid space pilot, overcoming overwhelming obstacles. Jon thought. He cackled gleefully, “Overcomer of Overwhelming Obstacles, I should probably have that emblazoned on the hull of this beauty.”
A shimmering figure of an attractive woman appeared to the side of Jon’s vision. “How about ‘Obstinate Oaf, Overcomer of Obvious Obsticles.’” Ah yes, he had almost forgotten about the artificial intelligence that came with the ship, complete with its own holographic projector.
“Sylvie, darling, I wouldn’t expect your computer’s brain to begin to understand the need of man to conquer and tame nature.”
Truth be told, his ship wasn’t exactly “new” in the conventional sense of the word. The previous owner had been an eccentric quintillionaire who collected starships. He had made his vast fortune by programming AI’s and custom fitting starships with whatever devices their owners wanted. When Jon had approached him and told the man of his life’s ambition and how he absolutely had to have a space ship to accomplish it, the man had smiled sagely and said there was only one ship that could possibly be up to the task. The C4 was ancient, almost nobody would have wasted money on it. Jon had been intensely skeptical at first. The old man had explained that “this ship has more whistles and bells, hidden compartments, secret weapons, added thrusters, invisibility, cloaking devices, lasers, shields, food replicators, and cool graffiti than you can shake a Zrakthian baby at.” People were always shaking Zrakthian babies at things, probably because of lasers that shot from their eyes when you did it.
“And that’s not all. This baby has the most advanced AI on board that the universe will probably ever know. I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting it, and this is the one and only ship that I’ve ever put it in.”
Jon had fought mightily to keep the pleased smile from his face. This would fit perfectly into his plan. The element of surprise was of absolute importance in his future career. No one would suspect an old C4 to have all the gadgets of a much newer starship, and the too-cool flames painted all over the body of the ship were just icing on the cake. He had been hoping to spend only 50 billion escolians on a new starship that he would take the time to outfit on his own, but this thing was beyond his wildest dreams. He had tried to haggle for a while with the man, offering only 25 billion at first. They had almost settled on the relatively modest price of 600 billion when the man had disclosed the final and perhaps most important accessory a ship could have.
“Did I mention that there is an Ultra HD HoloTV in the bedroom?”
That did it. Jon had always wanted a TV in his bedroom, but his parents had stubbornly refused, despite all of his pleading. To have one of the Ultra HD HoloTV’s… Jon had only seen them in adds before. Without hesitating further, Jon had given up almost all of the rest of his savings, a modest two trillion Escolians. Armed with only his new spaceship and his wits, Jon set out to accomplish his life’s ambition
Jonathan Wyndham fancied himself a space pirate. From the time he was four months old, he had dreamed of exploring the furthest reaches of space, seeking out hidden alien treasure, holding wealthy and beautiful women hostage, making his fortune with nothing more than his keen intellect and fast reflexes. Women would swoon when they heard his name, a name that would be feared and respected by all who knew it.
All of that was going to start today, as he navigated the soon to be infamous Wyndham asteroid belt. After all, the chances were slim that anyone had ever named this particular asteroid cluster, so why not name it after himself?
Sylvie laughed and laughed. “I understand men better than you think. Conquering nature indeed. Nature could crush you at any time, but because you climb a mountain, fly through an asteroid field, or shake Zrakthian babies you feel invincible.”
“Women! You never make any sense. How do Zrakthian babies even fit into this?” Jon couldn’t help himself from talking to the computer like it was an actual woman. It’s just a computer. There is no reason to let it get under your skin.
“They are all stupid things that men do to prove their manhood. Have you ever stopped to think what those poor babies are feeling? Why do you think that lasers come out of their eyes in the first place?”
“First of all, how do you know that Zrakthian babies don’t show their mothers how much they love them by shooting lasers at them? And secondly, you are nothing more than an overly complicated AI. I thought you were supposed to help me, not psychoanalyze my every thought!”
This computer was certainly more than Jon had bargained for. He had been duped by that crafty old man. Most AI’s were programmed to sound like machines, and they never volunteered their opinions. And who had ever heard of an AI that sounded and reasoned like a woman? It was absolutely ridiculous, that’s what it was, like having his mother along to offer her advice.
“Fine, if you don’t want my help, you can try to make it through this asteroid belt by yourself.”
That was fine with Jon. He maneuvered his ship into the midst of the chunks of rock and began smoothly dodging in and around them. The C4 was spectacular. It responded so perfectly to his control that it was as if it was responding directly to his thoughts.
A small and unexpected asteroid seemed to appear out of nowhere. It struck the ship with a resounding smack, but only left a dent. A lesser man might have panicked, but not Jonathan Wyndham. A lesser man would probably have already smashed himself to pieces, Jon thought with intense satisfaction. He tossed his hair in an imaginary wind, as he imagined an old time pirate might have done. I am the master of my domain.
An odd noise distracted Jon from his moment of exaltation. It sounded oddly like someone trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. Glancing at the image of Sylvie he saw her shoulders shaking violently. Hesitantly he asked, “Sylvie?”
Jon almost had to cover his ears as Sylvie threw back her head and a raucous burst of laughter echoed off the walls. “What’s so funny?” He asked with a fair bit of annoyance.
“You… you’re flying…” Sylvie rolled on the ground, kicking her feet in the air, arms pressed against her stomach as another fit of laughter seized her. Finally, with a supreme effort of will, she managed to regain her composure somewhat. “You are flying around these things so slowly. You look like a two year old, absolutely concentrated on maneuvering his tricycle around the kitchen table.” She collapsed in another fit of helpless laughter. Jon felt his face flush with embarrassment. He was going to have to have this AI serviced when he got into a docking station again.
“Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you just give it a try.”
Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the controls of his ship stopped responding to his touch. Jon watched in horror as all thrusters went online and their speed began to increase phenomenally. The asteroids became a blur as the ship darted in and around with movements so quick that his eyes couldn’t begin to follow them. With a wail of terror he crumpled in a heap on the floor and passed out.
The fearless and intrepid space pilot, overcoming overwhelming obstacles. Jon thought. He cackled gleefully, “Overcomer of Overwhelming Obstacles, I should probably have that emblazoned on the hull of this beauty.”
A shimmering figure of an attractive woman appeared to the side of Jon’s vision. “How about ‘Obstinate Oaf, Overcomer of Obvious Obsticles.’” Ah yes, he had almost forgotten about the artificial intelligence that came with the ship, complete with its own holographic projector.
“Sylvie, darling, I wouldn’t expect your computer’s brain to begin to understand the need of man to conquer and tame nature.”
Truth be told, his ship wasn’t exactly “new” in the conventional sense of the word. The previous owner had been an eccentric quintillionaire who collected starships. He had made his vast fortune by programming AI’s and custom fitting starships with whatever devices their owners wanted. When Jon had approached him and told the man of his life’s ambition and how he absolutely had to have a space ship to accomplish it, the man had smiled sagely and said there was only one ship that could possibly be up to the task. The C4 was ancient, almost nobody would have wasted money on it. Jon had been intensely skeptical at first. The old man had explained that “this ship has more whistles and bells, hidden compartments, secret weapons, added thrusters, invisibility, cloaking devices, lasers, shields, food replicators, and cool graffiti than you can shake a Zrakthian baby at.” People were always shaking Zrakthian babies at things, probably because of lasers that shot from their eyes when you did it.
“And that’s not all. This baby has the most advanced AI on board that the universe will probably ever know. I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting it, and this is the one and only ship that I’ve ever put it in.”
Jon had fought mightily to keep the pleased smile from his face. This would fit perfectly into his plan. The element of surprise was of absolute importance in his future career. No one would suspect an old C4 to have all the gadgets of a much newer starship, and the too-cool flames painted all over the body of the ship were just icing on the cake. He had been hoping to spend only 50 billion escolians on a new starship that he would take the time to outfit on his own, but this thing was beyond his wildest dreams. He had tried to haggle for a while with the man, offering only 25 billion at first. They had almost settled on the relatively modest price of 600 billion when the man had disclosed the final and perhaps most important accessory a ship could have.
“Did I mention that there is an Ultra HD HoloTV in the bedroom?”
That did it. Jon had always wanted a TV in his bedroom, but his parents had stubbornly refused, despite all of his pleading. To have one of the Ultra HD HoloTV’s… Jon had only seen them in adds before. Without hesitating further, Jon had given up almost all of the rest of his savings, a modest two trillion Escolians. Armed with only his new spaceship and his wits, Jon set out to accomplish his life’s ambition
Jonathan Wyndham fancied himself a space pirate. From the time he was four months old, he had dreamed of exploring the furthest reaches of space, seeking out hidden alien treasure, holding wealthy and beautiful women hostage, making his fortune with nothing more than his keen intellect and fast reflexes. Women would swoon when they heard his name, a name that would be feared and respected by all who knew it.
All of that was going to start today, as he navigated the soon to be infamous Wyndham asteroid belt. After all, the chances were slim that anyone had ever named this particular asteroid cluster, so why not name it after himself?
Sylvie laughed and laughed. “I understand men better than you think. Conquering nature indeed. Nature could crush you at any time, but because you climb a mountain, fly through an asteroid field, or shake Zrakthian babies you feel invincible.”
“Women! You never make any sense. How do Zrakthian babies even fit into this?” Jon couldn’t help himself from talking to the computer like it was an actual woman. It’s just a computer. There is no reason to let it get under your skin.
“They are all stupid things that men do to prove their manhood. Have you ever stopped to think what those poor babies are feeling? Why do you think that lasers come out of their eyes in the first place?”
“First of all, how do you know that Zrakthian babies don’t show their mothers how much they love them by shooting lasers at them? And secondly, you are nothing more than an overly complicated AI. I thought you were supposed to help me, not psychoanalyze my every thought!”
This computer was certainly more than Jon had bargained for. He had been duped by that crafty old man. Most AI’s were programmed to sound like machines, and they never volunteered their opinions. And who had ever heard of an AI that sounded and reasoned like a woman? It was absolutely ridiculous, that’s what it was, like having his mother along to offer her advice.
“Fine, if you don’t want my help, you can try to make it through this asteroid belt by yourself.”
That was fine with Jon. He maneuvered his ship into the midst of the chunks of rock and began smoothly dodging in and around them. The C4 was spectacular. It responded so perfectly to his control that it was as if it was responding directly to his thoughts.
A small and unexpected asteroid seemed to appear out of nowhere. It struck the ship with a resounding smack, but only left a dent. A lesser man might have panicked, but not Jonathan Wyndham. A lesser man would probably have already smashed himself to pieces, Jon thought with intense satisfaction. He tossed his hair in an imaginary wind, as he imagined an old time pirate might have done. I am the master of my domain.
An odd noise distracted Jon from his moment of exaltation. It sounded oddly like someone trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. Glancing at the image of Sylvie he saw her shoulders shaking violently. Hesitantly he asked, “Sylvie?”
Jon almost had to cover his ears as Sylvie threw back her head and a raucous burst of laughter echoed off the walls. “What’s so funny?” He asked with a fair bit of annoyance.
“You… you’re flying…” Sylvie rolled on the ground, kicking her feet in the air, arms pressed against her stomach as another fit of laughter seized her. Finally, with a supreme effort of will, she managed to regain her composure somewhat. “You are flying around these things so slowly. You look like a two year old, absolutely concentrated on maneuvering his tricycle around the kitchen table.” She collapsed in another fit of helpless laughter. Jon felt his face flush with embarrassment. He was going to have to have this AI serviced when he got into a docking station again.
“Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you just give it a try.”
Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the controls of his ship stopped responding to his touch. Jon watched in horror as all thrusters went online and their speed began to increase phenomenally. The asteroids became a blur as the ship darted in and around with movements so quick that his eyes couldn’t begin to follow them. With a wail of terror he crumpled in a heap on the floor and passed out.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Kitchen Timer
Yesterday morning the kitchen timer started going off. We have a digital timer, so it beeps. For some reason that I couldn’t remember at the time, I had it in bed with me. So, I woke up and began feeling around, trying to find the stupid timer so that I could shut it off and go back to sleep. Oddly enough, my alarm was also going off at this point, and eventually the sound got so annoying that I got out of bed to turn it off so that I could continue looking for the timer.
Since I was already out of bed at this point, I turned on the light and began peeling back the covers to see where the timer was at. Jen was still asleep, so I decided that there was not a very good chance that she would roll over and crush it, since it had probably been on my side of the bed. At this point I was not having any luck, and I really didn’t want to wake Jen up, so I decided to go take my shower. I have to turn on the lights to get dressed in the morning, so I figured that it would make sense to look for the timer again in a few minutes.
The shower was very refreshing, and I went through the rest of my morning routine. I walked back into the room to get dressed, and remembered that I was looking for that dang kitchen timer. It suddenly occurred to me that it was in fact the alarm going off that I had heard earlier, and not the timer at all. The timer must have been the way my sluggishly processing brain interpreted the alarm noise. Don’t ask me why I didn’t realize this after I turned off the alarm and the noise all stopped. There is a very good reason that I take a shower in the morning before doing anything else.
Since I was already out of bed at this point, I turned on the light and began peeling back the covers to see where the timer was at. Jen was still asleep, so I decided that there was not a very good chance that she would roll over and crush it, since it had probably been on my side of the bed. At this point I was not having any luck, and I really didn’t want to wake Jen up, so I decided to go take my shower. I have to turn on the lights to get dressed in the morning, so I figured that it would make sense to look for the timer again in a few minutes.
The shower was very refreshing, and I went through the rest of my morning routine. I walked back into the room to get dressed, and remembered that I was looking for that dang kitchen timer. It suddenly occurred to me that it was in fact the alarm going off that I had heard earlier, and not the timer at all. The timer must have been the way my sluggishly processing brain interpreted the alarm noise. Don’t ask me why I didn’t realize this after I turned off the alarm and the noise all stopped. There is a very good reason that I take a shower in the morning before doing anything else.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Escolia
I would like to apologize for not having posted recently, but I am unable to do so. You see, there is a delicate balance in this world that must be maintained by an elite few of us. I can tell you neither the name of this secret organization, nor the elite rank of Lord Captain Commander which I hold in it. My wife’s lengthy posts during our vacation tipped the balance, almost to toppling over. I was forced to abstain from blogging, or an inhabited planet in the Escolian galaxy would have been destroyed. My birthright confers great power upon me, which I must delicately wield.
My silence is being broken a day earlier than is truly safe, but I have important information which needs to be passed along. My fly was down since before lunch. Luckily I am wearing my conservative boxers today. And by fly I mean my zipper, not my fly minion called Rakthor.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Mkeangu ni moto kidogo
Today’s word is kidogo. Kidogo is a Swahili word that means “little”. RVA lingo incorporated a lot of Swahili, which is somewhat inevitable, seeing as we were quite literally surrounded by a Swahili speaking population. It doesn’t need much explanation or have a funny background, so here is an unrelated blog with the word kidogo thrown in for fun.
Last night I was determined to get enough sleep, so I somehow managed to make it to bed by 9:30. Today I am only kidogo tired. I’m not completely rested, but I am at least 50% better than yesterday. We’ll see how I do after lunch. I am terrible right after lunch. I start to nod off, then I look at my computer screen and see it is covered in e’s. So far no one has noticed me getting drowsy, or at least they have not mentioned it to me. It is kind of scary to think that I may have been caught snoozing. I hate being tired when I’m at work. What fills me with absolute frog-mouse terror is the idea of having a baby. I have no idea how I will survive when we have to wake up every 2 hours to feed a kidogo baby.
It will be interesting to see how we deal with children. You might think that since the woman has the necessary apparatus for baby feeding, I might be able to sleep the night away and let Jen deal with it by herself. However, I believe that I am the lighter sleeper. I’m not entirely sure how sound of a sleeper Jen is, so it’s possible she won’t even wake up in the middle of the night. I’ve heard of men who helped the baby to… “find its food” in the middle of the night, either to give their wives a chance to continue sleeping or possibly because they couldn’t manage to wake her up. We’ll have to see what we end up doing.
Whew… I made it though that without calling out any of those unmentionable womanly body parts by name. Good job Matt… You are now kidogo ready for… something that will probably happen which will require you to be at least partially ready when the time comes for you to do the thing that was aforementioned in this sentence structure, which is no longer the kidogo sentence I/you intended to write when we set out at the beginning of this paragraph, but at least I got to use my word twice in a single sentence.
Last night I was determined to get enough sleep, so I somehow managed to make it to bed by 9:30. Today I am only kidogo tired. I’m not completely rested, but I am at least 50% better than yesterday. We’ll see how I do after lunch. I am terrible right after lunch. I start to nod off, then I look at my computer screen and see it is covered in e’s. So far no one has noticed me getting drowsy, or at least they have not mentioned it to me. It is kind of scary to think that I may have been caught snoozing. I hate being tired when I’m at work. What fills me with absolute frog-mouse terror is the idea of having a baby. I have no idea how I will survive when we have to wake up every 2 hours to feed a kidogo baby.
It will be interesting to see how we deal with children. You might think that since the woman has the necessary apparatus for baby feeding, I might be able to sleep the night away and let Jen deal with it by herself. However, I believe that I am the lighter sleeper. I’m not entirely sure how sound of a sleeper Jen is, so it’s possible she won’t even wake up in the middle of the night. I’ve heard of men who helped the baby to… “find its food” in the middle of the night, either to give their wives a chance to continue sleeping or possibly because they couldn’t manage to wake her up. We’ll have to see what we end up doing.
Whew… I made it though that without calling out any of those unmentionable womanly body parts by name. Good job Matt… You are now kidogo ready for… something that will probably happen which will require you to be at least partially ready when the time comes for you to do the thing that was aforementioned in this sentence structure, which is no longer the kidogo sentence I/you intended to write when we set out at the beginning of this paragraph, but at least I got to use my word twice in a single sentence.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The shrub that will live in infamy
Today I will tell you about the sudden evolution of one of the words in our RVA dialect. The word is “conch”. What is a conch in normal English you may ask? A conch (pronounced “konk”) is “any of various large spiral-shelled marine gastropod mollusks”. You can see a picture of one to the top left. You may also be wondering how a word could evolve in a single event, since evolution takes millions of years. Well, let me tell you.
It was a warm and dry afternoon in my 9th grade English class on the momentous day in which the word conch took on a whole new meaning. We were taking turns reading “The Lord of the Flies” out loud this particular day. One of the guys was reading the part where Ralph and Piggy discover the conch shell on the beach. As he was reading he came to the word and knew instinctively that here was a word which he did not know how to pronounce correctly. He did what anyone may have done in his situation, he tried to say it phonetically… “konch”. His mistake was in his lack of confidence. Despite the vast vocabulary known to 9th graders, most of us had no better idea how to pronounce the word. His hesitant tone inspired our teacher to provide the correct pronunciation of the offending word. And thus his shrubbery was brought to the forefront of our awareness.
Something about the situation was absolutely hysterical. It was probably a combination of the funny sounding word, along with the sheepish way in which he tried so erroneously to say it. Our laughter served to cement the event in our memories. Word spread quickly and soon our entire class knew of the shrubbed conch. We very quickly began to use “konch” to describe other difficult words to say. For example: “dang, Belteshazzar is a konch word!”
In not much more time, konch came to mean difficult or hard. We also remembered the correct way to say the word, and so both pronunciations were used. In fact, they were both used so often that we soon forgot which was the correct way to say it.
And so you see, a simple shrub, combined with the right amount of laughter, and provided that the shrubbed word is sufficiently fun to say, could result in the creation of an entirely new word.
It was a warm and dry afternoon in my 9th grade English class on the momentous day in which the word conch took on a whole new meaning. We were taking turns reading “The Lord of the Flies” out loud this particular day. One of the guys was reading the part where Ralph and Piggy discover the conch shell on the beach. As he was reading he came to the word and knew instinctively that here was a word which he did not know how to pronounce correctly. He did what anyone may have done in his situation, he tried to say it phonetically… “konch”. His mistake was in his lack of confidence. Despite the vast vocabulary known to 9th graders, most of us had no better idea how to pronounce the word. His hesitant tone inspired our teacher to provide the correct pronunciation of the offending word. And thus his shrubbery was brought to the forefront of our awareness.
Something about the situation was absolutely hysterical. It was probably a combination of the funny sounding word, along with the sheepish way in which he tried so erroneously to say it. Our laughter served to cement the event in our memories. Word spread quickly and soon our entire class knew of the shrubbed conch. We very quickly began to use “konch” to describe other difficult words to say. For example: “dang, Belteshazzar is a konch word!”
In not much more time, konch came to mean difficult or hard. We also remembered the correct way to say the word, and so both pronunciations were used. In fact, they were both used so often that we soon forgot which was the correct way to say it.
And so you see, a simple shrub, combined with the right amount of laughter, and provided that the shrubbed word is sufficiently fun to say, could result in the creation of an entirely new word.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Please, please, no more! We will find you a shrubbery.
Due to popular demand, I will update my blog with a new post, Don’t let it go to your head Allison, but yes, you are popular (and a trifle demanding). Also, the picture of a turkey neck at the top of my page was making me a little nauseous. If you really didn’t get my turkey neck story, just ask my wife.
Since some of you (like Allison) really liked to hear about the made up language we had in boarding school, I figured that I would teach you all a new word. One of my favorites was the word “shrub”. In RVA (Rift Valley Academy) lingo, a shrub is a verbal blunder. I have no idea how this word originated, but I can make an educated guess. It is entirely likely that someone was attempting to say a real word, but accidentally said “shrub” instead. It may have gone something like this…
“So, I was giving my girlfriend a back shrub when all of a sudden…”
In our RVA culture, we did not let each other forget our mistakes, particularly if they were funny. It is also entirely possible that the word originated when someone was trying to tell a story while walking back to the dorms (a very dangerous combination, I’m sure you all know). While all of his concentration was on telling the story instead of walking, he may have tripped on a low lying shrubbery, thus interrupting his story and causing him to cry out “shrub!”
A good example of a real life shrubbing was when our class president was talking to us all one night. He was discussing plans for an upcoming goat roast when he mistakenly said “ghost roat”. Everyone laughed uproariously at this, of course. About 70% of the men in the room called out “shrub!” at this point, just in case he may have not noticed his verbal blunder. Up until graduation, and even after we would constantly remind him “…ghost roat, that was a great shrub man”.
A good shrub was very rarely forgotten, and as I may tell you next time, shrubbing could easily lead to the creation of a new word. Until next time, Cherry Mristmas, and may all your shrubings be gay.
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