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So I was watching this historical documentary[^] last night, I am sure that it was a re-enactment though. But still new found respect for the recently departed man[^] that oversaw the effects. Months of moving figurines millimeter by millimeter for the stop motion animation has to be some majorly tedious work.
On a side note, I like reading the credits to these old films to see if I recognize someone that might have had a bit part but went on to bigger and better things. In this particular film, one of the actors went on to become a Dr.... http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0873743/?ref_=tt_cl_t11[^]
It's a good feeling. I posted an article this week that I've been working on since February. Mostly a huge sense of relief that it's finally done.
It's not going to win any prizes but I'm sure some of the people downloading it will find it useful.
"The secret of happiness is freedom, and the secret of freedom, courage."
Thucydides (B.C. 460-400)
Upvoted for not including a link, although I would have, also, upvoted ... if it had a link.
“Human beings do not live in the objective world alone, nor alone in the world of social activity as ordinarily understood, but are very much at the mercy of the particular language which has become the medium of expression for their society. It is quite an illusion to imagine that one adjusts to reality essentially without the use of language and that language is merely an incidental means of solving specific problems of communication or reflection." Edward Sapir, 1929
I went down the pub.
Not an unusual occurance of a Friday evening.
But this Friday was different.
It came to Midnight, and I was about to go home when in walked the band Cerberus.
I have known these guys since the early 80's, and once shared a flat with Chris (The bassist)
With them walked in Black Bill (not black, merely a c++ programmer for TMobile who always dresses in black)
And Biggles (Not a first world war pilot, but a sysadmin for a bank)
And Jules (she is not a techie, but was once very hot)
In fact about 30 of them walked in and I was transported (wibbly wobbly) back to the late 1980's early 1990's when I dressed in black, silver and leather and was a gothy rocker.
I am now a tweedy middle aged man, so it was a culture shock.
5.00am when I walked in the house, reeling but still awake, but I think that has to do with the Speedtm
Not that I do drugs or anything but 'here, take his', ' yeah ok then'.
Now that I have recovered I have a party to go to, a bbq at a friends house and I am worried about coming down.
Don't do drugs kids, even class C, it screws you.
Obscurum per obscurius.
Ad astra per alas porci.
Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum videtur.
Speed, in my day, was Dexedrine, aka "whites" or "cross-tops", and extraordinarily mild compared to the crap kids take today. If that's the same stuff, occasional use is harmless and it's not very addictive, not on a par with methamphetamine. Still, you're obviously older and wiser now - no worries. Have a fun day, or as much of it as you can keep your eyes open to experience.
Not going to say in public that I ever did drugs but I recall an event that I was two day's awake after going to a party
Funny though I though about you when I saw a picture in the Guardian of the maze in the form of a Dalek from above (Thought hey that's something for Dave to see) and since I had no idea where Yorkshire was I looked it up and ended on a local newspaper with the video, so I posted that instead of a link to the picture.
When I was younger and dumber, I spent a weekend like that. My neighbors invited me over for a barbeque, and since the house was frequented by many young, slim pretty ladies, I readily accepted the invitation, having been recently divorced. We ate and drank beer until about 10:00 on Friday night, then someone suggested a road trip to a bar in town for some pool. We closed that place and got back to the house about 3 AM, but since there was still plenty of beer in the house there was no rush to end the festivities. At 6 AM, the bar opened again, and we were running low on beer, so off we went into town again. We had a bit of breakfast, then played pool all morning, until the horseshoes games started out back. The afternoon was spent playing horseshoes behind the bar and drinking huge volumes of beer. After darkness settled in, a couple of girls decided that we should go dancing - it was Saturday night, after all. There being only one bar in town with a decent dance floor and live band, we all drove up to the Top Town area where the scary people live - druggies, biker gangs, homeless weirdos and such. We danced the night away, but I began to notice that, though none of us had been to sleep since Friday morning, I was the only one who appeared to be getting drunk and sleepy. I had also noticed, though I failed to make the connection, that all of my party friends made frequent visits to the restroom, far more often than drinking beer should require.
After closing the dance bar, we went next door to the biker bar, where we were illegally admitted well after the legal closing time, and the booze-fest continued until dawn, when we all went back to the first bar for a breakfast of bisquits and gravy, and more beer. We played pool until noon or so, then someone suggested we go back to the house for a barbeque. This was starting to sound like a precursor to "Groundhog Day" and I could barely focus on the faces in front of me. Knowing I had to work the next day, I bowed out and went straight home. But I heard the party across the street continuing for several more days and nights. Little did I know that the lady of the house was the local methamphetamine dealer, and all our party buddies (excepting me) were her regular customers.
In some ways it's an ideal drug - it keeps you alert and productive far longer than basic good health will allow, and since you don't have any interest in eating, the girls stay slender. Of course, the green, rotting teeth are a bit of a drawback, along with the weeping sores on the skin. But other than that, it's got some promise.
Great Story and I recognise that from the beginning of the nineties when the house music scene started and I worked in a coffeeshop were kids in [Australian] wear and bald shaved heads came in as soon as we opened. They just came back from some dance event and had strange looking eyes if they were from some other planet