Updates no more

dimanche 30 mars 2014

Letters form the Northern Lands


18.07.XXXX

My Love

The harshness of nature is more apparent now, after the initial wonder has somewhat subsided. When the sun hides behind the clouds, the temperature drops drastically, and even with our warm clothes, the cold creeps into our limbs. The rain dampens our spirits. Our bodies long for the warmth of the fireplace. And for yours, my Love. But when we see the herds of reindeer walk past, when the never-setting sun rains its sweet rays on us, when a startled snow-hen runs from its hiding place clucking madly, we know we shall have no regrets.
That which is easy has no merits. Only when we feel pain can we feel pleasure. Only through hardships can we shed the cold shell of sophistry and find ourselves. Once everything has been taken from us, and even the simplest things are no longer granted, once we realize our own weakness, our own helplessness, and accept it, we can start to feel the warmth that dwells in all of us.
Only the weak seek strength. Only the strong dare to be weak. Those who close themselves to the world, fearing to be hurt, shall spend their life in pain. But those who open their hearts, those who invite in everything, the pain and the pleasure, the joy and the sadness, without judgement, those can never be hurt. Without shadows, there can be no light.
Out here, in the high mountains and the low valleys, nothing is bad. Pain is but a prelude to relief. The mundane squabbles of civilized society loose their meaning. Only life remains.

W.

jeudi 27 mars 2014

Letters from the Northern Lands

 
17.07.XXXX

My Love

We have arrived. But this is not the end of our journey. It is the beginning.
The majestic mountains that tower above us awe and humble the human spirit. The clear blue lakes that stretch out before us, fed by pristine streams tumbling out of the eternal ice, invigorate our tired minds. The lush green invites us to breath freely. And once more we realize that ours is a futile struggle. No matter how grand our buildings, how advanced our civilization or how rich our culture, never shall we match the sublime grandeur of nature.
Having come to understand this, we do not despair. On the contrary, we rejoice at being a part of it, for it is the greatest of all undertakings (please do excuse this poor wording, for the rain forced us to set up our tent post-haste, and made me loose my train of thought).
Indeed, the unmatched splendor of nature can even make us forget how deadly, how without mercy the wilderness is. But even the uncanny violence and fierce destruction it contains do not mar its beauty. On the contrary.
In nature, there is no evil. Everything struggles. That is the definition of life. The fight for survival knows no quarter, and it needs no quarter. There is no malice in those who struggle to survive. Only in those who struggle to enrich themselves. Thus only in humans do you find true evil. And only in humans can you find true good. For nature does not care either way. She just goes on, unbothered, as she always has, and always will.
But then, what is the meaning of our lives, of our believes ? I do not know, my Love. I cannot fathom our purpose. But I do know this, my Love : So long as you are in my life, it shall have meaning.

W.







mardi 25 mars 2014


Four goblins came out of nowhere. They looked kinda cute, fluffy little buggers that they were, but also fast as hell. Not as fast as my cat, though. She took one out before they could even move. The three that were left held nothing back, biting my pals as if there was no tomorrow, but it didn't take long to get rid of them. Fast but weak. After that, not much happend.
We had to get rid of one or two boars, but nothing major. We handled it with minumum damage. We knew they wouldn't be able to follow us once we reached the city. Man, these trips were annoying.
Back and forth and back again, from one town to another, all just so some stupid old dog could be cleared of his charges. And what was the point of that anyway ? Not like he'd be of any use later on. The only thing he was good for was to make me do shit and mouth off. Useless bastard. On the other hand, clearing up his mess had allowed me to see quite a bit of the world, and meet some new people. If not, I probably wouldn't have gotten the power of the dragon.


...


I need to stop playing breath of fire II.

dimanche 23 mars 2014

Letters from the Northern Lands

 
16.07.XXXX

My Love

We have arrived at our last stop before the wilderness. Here we shall make our preparation, and equip ourselves with the supplies we could not bring from home.
It shames me to say so, my Love, but even though it is only the second day since leaving, my heart makes my resolve waver. How I long to be by your side.
Do you remember when we first met ? In that little bakery near the old university ? You were an hour early, and decided to have coffee. I was five minutes late to class, and thought "Why bother ?" As I looked for a seat, you lent me the one next to you.
I shall always remember that day, my Love. The day that I met you, and that my life found joy. The day that I knew where to go, and where to sit. The day that I found were I belong. And the day I vowed to do everything I can to be worthy of that seat.
I will not turn back, my Love, no matter how much I crave your touch. I shall go on, and find my courage in the wild mountains of the north. Between dark trees and fresh snow I will find my worth. Only after shall I come back to you, my Love.

W.

vendredi 21 mars 2014

Letter from the Northern Lands


15.07.XXXX

My Love

As I sit in our train, riding towards the far north, the sun setting over the lonely fields, I think of you. It has torn my heart to leave you behind, knowing not when I shall forsake the cold wilderness of the harsh lands that await me, so I can feel your gentle touch once more. It pains me to think of you alone, sitting by the fire in the house we once shared. I hope that my letters will give you some comfort, and let you rest assured that my love for you remains unquestioned.
I know your friends will talk, and say that I am but a foolish boy, who prefers adventures over the comfort of love. They will tell you to forget about me, to leave me to my mad musings. They will tell you to move on, and look for someone who will value your company as he should. Yet I do, my Love. I do.
But I cannot remain next to you while the north doth call. I cannot stay by the warmth of our hearth, craving dreams without fighting for them. For such a man would not be worthy of you, my Love.
So I have left, and fly over the rails that point toward the never-setting sun. And when I come back, my Love, I shall be a man that can stand by your side his head held high.

W.
 

jeudi 20 mars 2014

 
The wondrous evolution of the mysterious Box-fish

Part 4 : Easy does it


BMW is currently conducting research on the boxfish. As you can guess, BMW doesn't really care much about the origin of this genus. Even though they should. No, the reason why BMW is doing research on the boxfish is its aerodynamic properties.
Indeed, despite its bulky form, the boxfish is extremely aerodynamic. Living mostly in turbulent coastal waters, its strange form allows it to take advantage of the unpredictable currents, instead of getting swept away. So the reason why the boxfish does have this strange shape is the simplest of all : fish need to move well in water.
After almost an hour of painstaking research, spent almost entirely without even a cigarette break, the result was strangely anti-climatic. But I guess it just goes to show that no matter how strange something may seem at first glance, once you get to know where it comes from, it'll all make sense.

And so we conclude the boxfish arc. Hope you liked it. From now on we start with a new story, "Letters from the Northern Lands". The first letter will be published tomorrow, and from then on it will update every sunday and thursday.

mardi 18 mars 2014


I bought a hat some time ago. It's a pretty neat hat. It kind of makes me look like Humphrey Boggart or Robin Hood, depending on how I want to use it. And it's really comfortable. With it, I feel like I'm a real artist.
Like Bob Dylan or Donovan, it gives me that bohemian charm. Free as the clouds, my friend. When I wear my scarf and my jacket, and with my guitar on my back, I look like a real street musician. It's so cool ! But there's still much work to do.
I need to learn that flip-motion to put on the hat, where you kinda roll it around your hand, or something. But the shape of the hat makes it hard to do. I need to train. Not everybody can wear a hat.
There is something about being a hat-guy that changes you. You identify with your hat. You become the hat, the hat becomes you. Because it is on your head, one of the first parts of the body people look at, because it has an impact on the face, which is the visual paradigm we recognize the easiest, it defines you.
We hat guys are a queer ol' bunch. We are dominated by the hat, because it is above us, yet we do not reject it. For we seek the powers it grants us. When we see another hat-bearer, we nod in acknowledgment of the suffering, and the rewards, that we share.

jeudi 13 mars 2014

The wonderous evolution of the mysterious Box-Fish

Part 3 : Oddballs
 
 
The family Ostraciidae, to wich the boxfish belongs, is part of the order Tetraodontiformes. The name comes from the latin tetra, meaning four, odous, meaning tooth, and forma, meaning form, because these fish have four tooth-like bones in their "beak". The phylogenetic relations of the Tetraodontiformes (meaning, how are they all related, and who came first, etc.) are still debated to this day. However, it is common to find rather strange forms in this order.
The ocean sunfish (Mola mola) is probably one of the most extreme examples of this. Other members of the order include the pufferfish, the filefish and the triggerfish. Most of these families are found near coral reefs. This could explain their high morphological plasticity, since coral fish are know for bright colors and particular morphology, which may not always be streamlined, since they do not often swim in open water.
In addition to their peculiar appearance, most of the families of this order are incapable of lateral flexion, and so, unlike the majority of fish, can move only with the help of their flippers. This makes their movements slow, but it is very precise.
The wide variety of unconventional features found in Tetraodontiformes can explain why the box-fish could acquire such a strange shape, since it seems its order does have a predisposition for morphological mutations. But what did drive this change ?
Did the corals where the boxfish appeared have square caves ? Was there a reproductive advantage to being square ? Was it attractive to the opposite sex ? Did it make it harder for predators to identify them as prey, giving them extra protection ? Did it make it inconspicuous to its own prey ? I didn't know yet, but was determined to find out the truth.
 

mardi 11 mars 2014


I was on my way home, riding my bike. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car braking, then a crash. I turned around, and saw that a black car and a silver car had crashed into each other. I kept on going home.

I was on my way home after a long day. I was minding my own business, riding my bike. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car braking timidly, like a halting series of squeals. Then came a big crash. I turned around, and saw that a black car had tried to get on the road. And a silver car hadn't seen him, so they crashed into each other. I kept on going home, since nobody seemed hurt.

I was on my way home after a long day. I had gotten up at seven, just to laze around for hours. I was minding my own business, riding my bike. At least I got to enjoy one of the first day of sunlight outside. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car braking timidly, like a halting series of squeals. The sound was foreign to my ears, and at first I couldn't recognize it for what it was. Then came a big crash. I knew instinctively that there had been an accident, but something felt strange. I turned around, and saw that a black car had tried to get on the road. And a silver car hadn't seen him, so they crashed into each other. The driver of the silver car made a rude hand-gesture to the other driver. I kept on going home, since nobody seemed hurt. Then it hit me : neither of the two cars had honked at the other.

I was on my way home after a long day. I hadn't gotten much done, though. I had gotten up at seven, just to laze around for hours. Kinda wasteful, but at least I felt like the day wasn't spent without reason. I was minding my own business, riding my bike. Well, not my bike, but the one I use when I'm here. At least I got to enjoy one of the first day of sunlight outside. The weather had been nice for the first time this year, and the warm air felt good. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car braking timidly, like a halting series of squeals. I didn't know where it was coming from. The sound was foreign to my ears, and at first I couldn't recognize it for what it was. As if it had somehow been taken out of context. Then came a big crash. You could feel the impact through the noise. I knew instinctively that there had been an accident, but something felt strange. As if something was out of place. I turned around, and saw that a black car had tried to get on the road. And a silver car hadn't seen him, so they crashed into each other. Luckily, neither of them was going very fast. The driver of the silver car made a rude hand-gesture to the other driver. The other one gesticulated wildly in direction of the point of contact. I kept on going home, since nobody seemed hurt. Still, something didn't seem right. Then it hit me : neither of the two cars had honked at the other.

So there I was, riding home, not thinking about much. I had gotten up at seven just to spend my day lazing around, but I didn't care. It was the first nice weather of the year, and the sun was warm. I pedaled along, quite content with life. The jenever and the cannabis might have had something to do with that.
Anyway, there I was, on the cycle lane, minding my own business, when suddenly I heard this strange squealing sound from behind. It sounded a bit like in "Who framed Roger Rabbit?", when the shoe is put into the "dip". Before I could try to figure it out, there came a loud crash. I turned around, and couldn't believe my eyes.
A black sedan had just gone on the road, but the silver audi speeding along the center lane hadn't seen him. My eyes opened wide as the second car jumped off the first after hitting the edge of the hood, the sideways impact giving it a spinning motion. I flew over me, turning, a giant dolphin arching through the air, the debris sprinkling along like drops of water. There was total silence, and the seconds stretched into minutes as the human-made monster soared above, eclipsing the bright blue sky with its massive figure.
Sound came back as it hit a tree full force and upside-down, the hood bending inward under the shock. I could see the driver being propelled forward, his safety-belt the only thing that stopped him from crashing through the broken window. The rear of the car dropped to the ground.Then there was silence again.
All the other cars had stopped. People on foot and bike alike looked at the beached whale, his belly open, his blood spilling out. One second went by. Then another. I sat back on my bike, and was on my way before people even realized they could move again. Not like I give a crap.

jeudi 6 mars 2014

The wonderous evolution of the mysterious Box-Fish
Part 2 : A little bit of family history

 
The yellow boxfish (Ostracion cubicus) lives in the Pacific and Indian ocean. It is part of the Genus Ostracion, which is composed of eight species of box- and trunkfish, all so-called because of their rectangular shape.
This genus, in turn, is part of the family ostraciidae, which accounts for all matter of square fish, called trunkfish, boxfish, cowfish or cofferfish, probably in accordance to which square object was most common in the cultures that first discovered these fishes.
In addition to the squareness of it's members (often more pronounced in the adults than in younger fish), the genus ostraciidae is known for it's hard, bony scales, as well as for the neurotoxins most of it's members are capable of secreting. This, in addition to the hard scales, could explain why the boxfish is still here today : not many predators would be able to devour such an ill-tasting, and probably rather crunchy meal.
So, it seems that the boxfish has taken some well thought-out precautions against extinction. Solid armor and poison always help you stay alive (if you don't believe me, just watch "Game of Thrones"). But even though we know why the boxfish managed to stay, there is one thing it does not explain : how did it come to exist in the first place ?

mardi 4 mars 2014

Oh man !

Ohmanohmanohman ! Oh buddy ! You wouldn't believe ! 

So let's talk about something else.

I've been keeping at it this time around, but I still don't really know which direction this blog should be taking. Should it be funny ? Serious ? A "this-is-my-life" kind of blog, or a "I-wish-this-were-my-life" kind of blog ? A "it-ain't-that-bad" kind of blog, or a "you're-doing-it-all-wrong-let-me-tell-you" kind of blog ?

You're all savvy internet experts, viewers of many blogs, and able critics of the written word, I'm sure (I have a lot of faith in you guys. You seem nice). I'd hate to dissapoint you when you're all expecting me to say something clever, make some witty remark, or simply analyze politics in an accurate yet humane manner. That's quite a bit of pressure you guys are putting on me. I mean come on ! I'm only one man ! Give me a break, god dammit !

As you can see, it isn't easy to write a blog. It takes a special kind of person to resist the urge to please, and stay true to your convictions, when you know the whole world is watching. Or, well, could be watching. Theoretically speaking. That's quite a bit of power and responsability. So, how should I handle it ?

I don't really know. If you've got any ideas, please tell me. I'll try to hold on until then.