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Dragoncaller Multidimentional
I know you are all an hallucination, but thanks for coming anyway.
dragoncaller

Wonderful time! Thank you, Jhajhi

1 Dragons or Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
I got up with the great intention of doing many great things. First, I selected my electric carrier. This is a legal scam in the State of Connecticut where you have to go to a website and choose an electric service or be charged an even more outlandish rate for electricity. You have to do this every four months. God forbid you forget or you're not internet savvy. Seriously it is designed to rip you the frell off.

This takes about forty five minutes, assuming you have all the stuff you need, as you read through all the different offers. One said, for this deal you have to have a telephone appointment about solar panels. Um, yeah. That doesn't sound like a total scam at all.

Anyway, pumped from this success, I went to work on a new Shard's Thugs booklet.

Yeah, that only hurt a whole bunch.

Yesterday I was feeling a little technologically neanderthal as I went shopping for that video camera. I used to be a nerd god! Computers were my playthings!

Now I stare at them in wonder like a bunch of chimps looking up at the monolith.



Did you know there is a thing where you take a picture of your penis and send it to some random person. Yeah! A real thing called, take a picture of your penis and send it to some random person. Who would do such a thing? And yet, it is a thing.

Well, today I wanted to make a booklet of the first chapter of Shard's Thugs.
Shards Thugs.jpg

Should be easy, right?

We'll a couple months ago I brought it to Staples for convenience sake and it took them three hours and they failed. So I tried it and 4 hours later failed. So I gave up. I then bopped about on-line and found a program and went on and on about how good it was at making pamphlets. Intuitively! Intuitive intuitivation.

16 American dollars later and it was mine!

People should stop using the word, intuitive. It does not mean what they think.

4 hours of that and I wrote a strongly worded e-mail to the developers calling into question their life choices to be something other than a ditch digger. IT was a HORRIBLE program. Actually, it would have to improve significantly to be horrible.

I wasn't ready to give up.

I went back to Word. An unfathomable program at best, but I harped at it, thinking I was going to build it all by scratch.

And I was backed by the greatest library since Alexandria. The INTERNET. That's this thing made by Al Gore where everyone's useless opinion is as important and everybody else's.

Nothing.

Can't be done.

Seriously.

It is 17 years into the new century and I can't do this using the most advanced tools known to man.

Until...

And started randomly mashing buttons, like early man fondling the Monolith.

and BANG! It worked.

I poop you not.

Then I had to spend and hour to recreate my discovery because I had no idea how it happened.

But I have my booklet and I'll see you all at Birka because I will have my, see invisible glasses on.

On an important side note, I needed a graphic for the apes, so I downloaded it from You tube, cut it down from 12 minutes of 30 seconds, posted that, wrote the HTML code by hand and put it on LJ. I am a NERD GOD!

Current Mood: pissed off pissed off
Current Music: I can take a noun and bend it!

Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
The grey sky shivered in the tiny pool formed on the dark, grey walkway, teased by the spitting rain. Bright green moss oozes slowly, slowly, from the cracks of the stone, drinking up the soft falling water.

It is new rain on the new year. Everyone is delighted that 2016 has ended and now 2017 has a fresh start, new year, new life, new hope.

Except, of course, for the Jews and Chinese who look at this day as if it were a bank holiday. Might as well take the day off.

It takes one year from the Earth to roll around the sun and we should be roughly in the same place astronomically speaking as we were last year, and the year before and the century or two before that.

It is this point in the universal calendar where we round-eye goyim reflect on what we did while spinning around the sun.

I was promoted to Lieutenant and retired after 21 years of police service to my community. I received accolades from the Governor for my work and dedication to stop domestic violence. I published Shard's Thugs. I also began a new path, one of uncertainty, but a path non-the-less, to follow my life long passion of voice acting.

That's enough for one year, isn't it?

For years I refused to make resolutions for the New Year, but this year will be different.

1. Stay away from Facebook. Once a day. That's all I need.
2. Minimize playing computer games and other mindless things.
3. Read more.
4. Write more.
5. Draw more.
6. Dedicate time to work on the Bug. I will have in running again in 2017.
7. Pay particular attention to number 6.
8. Pay particular attention to number 4. Live journal posts are writing. Anything writing is writing but LJ is comprised of whole sentences and thoughts. Restricted sentences are restricted thoughts. Restricted thoughts are choking.

Today I spent time moving logs around until the rain became insistent. I then stood under the eave watching it fall invisibly, its only passing was marked by the quiver of the tiny puddles in the stone walk way.

21 years of writing police reports has killed by ability to talk like a person, think in whole sentences. It is time to get all that back and then some.

So there is my challenge for 2017.

2016 I stopped working.
2017 I started working.

And it will be glorious because it will be MINE.

Current Mood: happy happy
Current Music: So I stole one kiss, it was a near miss. She looked at me like I was Jack the Ripper

2 Dragons or Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
Today was my first movie audition. Small, student film, small part.

I didn't do as well as I had hoped. If anything, I over prepared.

The first sentence was worded a little odd and I fought my brain to master it. Over and over again until I could not get it wrong.

And action! I stuttered, unable to spit it out. I tried to recover. The director, seeing my trouble said; ignore the script, just talk, but my brain was still stuck on a sentence it could not say. I got through the rest of the scene fine, even when the producer started to ad-lib a little with me.

Small matter. It's all practice and learning and teaching my brain how to do things it has not done in 28 years, act.

My last gig was playing Ghost #2 in Charles Dickens' Christmas story. "And who is that small boy? The one with crutches?" #2 has sneering lines, throwing Scrouge's words back at him.

I forgot about that play until today.

Three performances in front of the international community. Ambassadors from all over the world.

I pulled that off.

So I can do it.

Yup. I will.

Current Mood: disappointed disappointed
Current Music: She took off to find the foot lights,

Call a Dragon
dragoncaller

Current Mood: good good
Current Music: Got a call from an old friend, we used to be real close.

3 Dragons or Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
no title

danabren

Current Mood: mellow mellow
Current Music: These pictures of you

1 Dragons or Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
So many colors, a flora firework display of Autumn. I don't like to call it Fall. I think that isn't a name, it's an act, a verb, not a season. Cool nights, warm days, a leaves of color everywhere almost over night. A big switch flipped and glorious effect. Green is green, but now we have so many other colors!

It is that time again, my friends and followers, to strip naked and walk outside the front door, walk around the house and back in again. This is the benefit I have for having woods 360 degrees around my house. It is my tradition. 15 years of this tradition! 15 years! 15 times I have watched the trees change over and shed their leaves. 15 times I've taken the hint and prepared for winter.

15 years to reflect.

What a year for me! So much accomplished! Shards Thugs.jpg

I put this out, the hilarious adventures of Captain Shard and his thugs.

I was promoted to Lieutenant.

I retired.

I painted the house and the deck and started to re-side the barn.

And we're going to Disney!

And I grew a beard.

So much done and so much left to do! As my cousin, Dragonslayer, would say; The Best is Yet to Come!

Current Mood: excited excited
Current Music: Walk! Come with me now!

4 Dragons or Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
It's the latest craze, meaning crazy insane shite stupidity. It's a bunch of, well, let's call them pizza preparers because they certainly are not chefs, who want to hide the fact that they are horrible people and incompetent at their jobs and are better suited to stand in parking lots and dodge cars, have put up this pizza assaulting smoke screen in order to convince you that you've been doing it all wrong your entire life and everything you know is wrong and they have the truth. This is like DASCH trying to tell you the 7th century is great and we should all go back to it to distract you from their true motive of abusing women which is only a double screen to conceal they have no penises.

Pizza.

I shouldn't call it pizza. What it is, is a desperate plea for help from someone who wants to be euthanized but can't muster the guts to do so.

What they've done, since they lack the skill, talent and imagination to create real pizza, is put forth a demonic abomination as pizza and convince you otherwise. This is the story of the Emperor's New Clothes.

And when you call them on it, they cry, "You can't make fun of our iconoclastic take on tradition!"

How can you claim to be a trendsetter and rebel if EVERYONE ELSE IS DOING IT? That doesn't make you a bad boy of the pizza world, it makes you a sheep. And making bad pizza is NEVER something to brag about.

What they've done is take a cracker, smear red sauce on it, have a pointed discussion about cheese near it and serve it up something that looks like infected zombie flesh to you claiming it is gourmet.



Seriously, they can't even make them round! Proof right there they should give up their aprons, turn off the ovens and get jobs as that guy who hands you a towel in the men's room.

When you challenge them they quickly hide all cowardly like and claim it's grandma's recipe from the Old Country.

Really? You're hiding behind Grandma? Grandma also has yer nuts in a jar for ya waiting for the day ya finally grow into them?

Lemme tell you about the Old Country. The Old Country is somewhere other than the US of A where a bunch of people were sitting around saying, "THIS PLACE SUCKS AND THE PIZZA IS CRAP!" So much so they got on non-sea worthy ships and made a peril fraught trip to the NEW WORLD where they had the freedom to make good pizza. Let's be real, if the pizza was any good in the Old Country, they'd all still be there. They made pizza what it is today. Good. Thin crust, a little crisp, and little chew, rich tomato sauce and cheese that flows evenly from crust to crust.

But we can't have nice things.

There is always going to be that guy who has to muck it up for everyone.

I give this another year where it will join the ranks of The Mullet and Anti-Vaxxers.

Current Mood: annoyed annoyed
Current Music: Cry, cry, cry, cry, cry, cry murder!

7 Dragons or Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
I have the ever growing belief that more and more items and services that we, the consumer, use are designed and engineered by people who have never met another human being before. Raised in a Skinner box, the baby engineer received the latest on-line data and algorhythmns about human beings, computer rendered wirework images, and anatomically correct (based on 1959 Insurance Company Data) dolls to play with.

The baby was spared the hardship of learning the crossdressing wolf (assuming it was male) devoured little Red Riding Hood, and the vengeful bears, sick of porridge, dined on Goldilocks, instead learned that asserting pack leadership Red Riding made friends with the wolf, and with simple explanation and offer of compensation, Goldilocks avoided her turn on the menu.

The baby supped on mother's pasteurized milk and received hugs in the form of electronic greeting cards and despite the baby's best to cram a Triangle block into a Square hole, still received a 'Good Job!' animated gif on its terminal.

The engineer grew up and the Skinner Box is now 900 square feet which is the new rage called, Tiny Houses. Groceries are delivered to the door. Visions of the real world are piped in by reality t.v.. And sex is provided by a series of self created pictures of genitals sent back and forth to another engineer who's profile identifies them of being from the desired gender.

My beginning proof of this idea is this:


This is the Eat'n tool. It is a spoon, fork, bottle opener, wrench and flat head screw driver. You discover very quickly the spoon is as useless as the fork, the bottle opener breaks of the top of the bottle leaving you with jagged glass to drink from, the wrench concept fails and the flat head screw driver is only useful for flat head screws which as all you out doors men know happens all the time in the woods.

Most of all the thing is physically painful to use. You will hurt yourself trying to use it. Yet there are 21 variations of this same, useless thing. Go to Amazon. You'll see it!

Next up it this:


It is a hair clip with a screwdriver, wrench, scale and SAW. As in, saw. The screwdriver is only good for tightening the screws on your glasses, the wrench is only good for nothing, the scale isn't to scale with anything and curved so you can't use it to get your bearing on a 2-D map and the saw, well, the saw will, no exaggeration, cut all your hair off while you wear the thing.

Walk around with this thing for 30 minutes and you'll have a Monk's Tonsure and horrific bleeding scars.

Also available on Amazon.

But it isn't limited to to crappy products.

This is from Ted's Talk. The premise is gamers are used to solving problems and therefore can be tasked with (dramatic pause) SAVING THE WORLD FER REELS! The audience, a bunch of scientists, are LAUGHING at her and she almost pleads to make her case. She has a PHD for this idea as her thesis, but as she goes on she refers to her thesis and her study. Not once does she talk about her gamer friends, or hosting a study to watch gamers. Everything she did is based on lab study. Listen to her. For ten years of programing computer games, she never once mentions playing a game or playing with others. After watching her for 5 minutes, I realized to my horror my theory was TRUE! She has never interacted with another human being, or trolled by a 15-55 year old gamer.



https://youtu.be/dE1DuBesGYM

It goes on and on and she isn't the only one. Insipid projects and ideas that 10 years from now we'll say, remember when that was all the rage?

Like putting yer thoughts on an on-line journal.

I leave you with this: A massive collection demonstrating there is no one at the helm.

The Worst Things for Sale

Current Mood: busy busy
Current Music: Hush my darling, be still my darling

11 Dragons or Call a Dragon
dragoncaller
Face book is fun, if you want the hyper-reality alarm extreme everything bagel with extra terror covered coffee, but it's all a collection of sound bites.

Bikering.

Noise.

It is like a siren in the night getting louder and louder, filling your thoughts with the random idea it's the SWAT van pulling into your driveway then getting softer before slipping into the night and you're left with wonder of what that was all about, when another, bigger, louder and brasher siren sounds, getting closer and closer and surely it is in your drive way this time, but it too fades into the night, almost gone for another, this one heading into a totally new direction, where do you think there is a street, and fading again replaced by another, this one a British Patrol Car going WeeeeOOOOOOWEEEEEoooooWEEEEOOOO, instead of the American WooWooWooWooWooWoo, or, RwaaaaaaaoooooooeeeeeeerRWaaaaaaaaooooooeeee, before it heads off into the night, probably on the wrong side of the road, leaving the only sound you hear is the re-run on the telly. Over and over again.

I'm not ruling out the previous sentence is a run on, but I'm banking it is not and my proof is James Joyce.

I need Live Journal to keep shit straight. To document stuff before I forget. To remember.

Tag! You're it!

I'm not trashing FB. FB is good for, hey cousin Jethro had another youngin' and, look at this cute kitten. It has its place. Just not for proper discussion or documenting my life and thoughts. It isn't for expressing myself. It's for fast and easy but necessary inane family chit chat so I don't have to actually spend time with them.

This is good. I will edit my post.

Current Mood: contemplative contemplative
Current Music: Come back, baby! Rock and Roll never forgets!

5 Dragons or Call a Dragon