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Kaoslord's (negected) World
last modified Apr 9, 2003 at 13:46
I was just thinking about one of the series by David Eddings. Belgarion (the ultimate grandson of Belgarath the Sorcerer) was musing about which of his titles gave him the most trouble. Lord of the Western Sea was no problem since the fish took care of themselves. Godslayer wasn't too bad since it involved duties that came up rarely(once). He could handle being the King of Riva, since it wasn't that big an island. Overlord of the West, however, was nothing but trouble.
He seemed to be having much more fun when he informed a would be imprisoner that he had a key that worked on any door. His key was called the Sword of the Riven King. He then used it to open a door and about a foot of the wall in either direction from the door.
It was a fun book.
.od ot esle gnihton evah I .sselmrah si sdrawkcab gnitirW
I just went to my first math class on Ptolomy. I now have a rather Men In Black-esk mental picture of a few dozen Celestial Spheres hovering in God's display case.
Perhaps the Creator did spell out the future for some worlds in the stars. The most important events would be written out in bright stars, while less vital matters might require a telescope to make out.
On second thought, why write out the future? How about instructions? That would save steps, and leave less chance for misinterpretation than working through prophets.
Then again, maybe tossing a few million stars on and seting it on a shelf is better in the long run.
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
And he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
Just this old guitar and and empty bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him cause he run and hid,
But the meanest thing that he ever did,
Was before he left he went and named me Sue.
Well he must have thought it was quite a joke,
And it got alot of laughs from alot of folks,
It seems I've had to fight my whole life through.
Some girl would giggle and I'd turn red,
Some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.
Well I grew up quick and grew up mean,
My fists got hard and my wits got kean,
And I roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made me a vow to the moon and stars,
I search the honky-tonks and bars,
And kill that man that give me that awful name.
In Gatlinburg in mid-July,
I just got to town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
In an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table dealin' stud,
Sat the dirty mangy dog that named me Sue.
I knew that snake for my own sweet dad,
From a worn out picture that my mother'd had,
I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood went cold,
I said,"My name is Sue, how do you do! Now you gonna die!"
Well I hit him hard right between the eyes,
He went down, but to my supprise,
Come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
Well I busted a chair right across his teeth,
And we crashed through the wall and into the street,
Kick'n and a gouge'n in the mud'n the blood'n the beer.
Well I'll tell you I've fought tougher men,
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and a heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
And then I saw him smile.
He said,"Son this world is rough,
And if a man's gonna make it he's gotta be tough,
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So a give you that name and said goodbye,
Knew you'd have to get tough or die,
And it's that name that's helped to make you strong.
You just fought one hell of a fight,
And I know you hate me and you've got the right
To kill me and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But you outta thank me before I die,
For the gravel in your gut and the spit in your eye,
Cause I'm the (bleep) that named you Sue."
Well I got all choked up and I threw down my gun,
I called him a Pa and he called me a Son,
And I come away with a differnt point of veiw,
I think about him now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son I think I'll name him....
Ralph or George, anything but Sue!
-A Boy Named Sue
Want to see sin of the wickedest kind?
Here it is!
Want to see virtue left behind?
Here it is!
Want to embrace the golden calf,
Ankle and thigh and upper half?
Here it is, I mean here it is!
No Name City, No Name City,
The Lord don't like it here.
No Name City, No Name City,
Your reckonen day is near,
No Name City, No Name City,
Here's what He's gonna do,
Gobble up this town,
And swollow it down,
And good bye to you!
Will you go to Heaven will you go to Hell?
(Go to Hell!)
Either repent or fare thee well?
(Fare thee well!)
God'll take care of No Name City,
Come the end and it won't be pretty,
Here it is, I mean here it is,
Here it is, I mean here.....it.......is.
Aaaaaaaaah-men!
-Paint Your Wagon
There are only so many songs in the movie Paint Your Wagon. Once I have written them out the singing in my head must stop. It must!
What kind of culture would a race of magicaly powerful, mentaly unstable midgets have?
An improperly executed triangle choke is even less fun than a properly executed one. Maintaining consciousness while your training partner keeps trying to get thier foot locked behind the opposite knee is both difficult and unpleasent.
What kind of effect one the psychology of a dead person would the worship of hundreds of living people have?
Sleep is that which brings pleasure...
God made the mountains,
God made the sky,
God made the people,
God knows why.
He fixed up the planet as best as He could,
Then in come the people and gum it up good.
The first thing you know,
They civilize the foothills,
And everywhere He put hills,
The mountains and valleys below,
They come along and take 'em,
And civilize and make 'em,
a place where no civilized person would go.
-Paint Your Wagon
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There's more than just gold,
(Gold is enough.)
That's buried below,
(Beautiful gold.)
There's seeds in the soil,
(Loveable gold.)
Just waiting to grow.
(Spendable gold.)
A man has his needs.
(And mine are all greed.)
Rainbows they got a pot of,
And I ain't got a spot of,
A few feet down theres a lot of,
(Just dirty old trash,
That turns in a flash,
To dirty old cash.)
Chorus:
The best things in life are dirty,
The worst thing in life is waken up clean without a bean,
The best things in life are filthy dirty,
Like lots of gold, gold, gold, gold...
-Paint Your Wagon
Two of the series that I most like are THE WHEEL OF TIME (by Robert Jordan) and THE CHRONICLES OF AMBER (by Roger Zelany) particularly the second part of the later, the ones based around Corwin's son. In both these series the title "Lord of Chaos" is mentioned, albeit in completly different circustances with different meanings. In one of the DISCWORLD (by Terry Prachett) books there was an anthropomorphic personification who changed his name to Mr. Soak after he lost popularity. Soak was actually his name spelled backward\drawkcab delleps eman sih yllautca saw Kaos. (I know that wasn't necessary, but I enjoy typing backwords) All he needed to regain his popularity was a change in spelling and some mathematicly inclinded friends.
How do you write a paper about Euclidean geometry? Or regular solids for that matter. I don't know were to begin. I am not happy. Complaints of this nature are pointless.
I'm afraid that I don't quite know what I will do with this Weblog. Perhaps I will continue to spill out portions of naration. There is not much here yet, but I believe that will change.
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