Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Twelve)

A steel knife slid through the air right next to Perla's shoulder, solidifying itself into the trunk of a nearby tree. "First the old man, now this? Is there anyone who doesn't want to kill us?" though Perla silently, as he turned around to see... Lucy? Again?

"I don't like this Tu, I don't like this one bit" whispered Perla.
"Who are you?" asked Tu. "And why do you look like our friend, Lucy?"
"Who are you?" asked the Lucy in front of them. "That is what I should be asking you. I still have a dagger, after all."
"Any weapon, no matter how powerful, is useless if one does not have the resolution to use it. If you are actually Lucy, you would not turn your hand on us."


Lucy's hand quivered, ever so slightly. "That still does not mean you are the real Tu. This all seems like a dream, and you don't seem to act like the Tu I knew."
"Lucy," Tu began, "Times change us all. After Ragnarok started it was necessary for me to..."

"What do you mean 'Ragnarok'? What are you talking about?"
"Hah!" snorted Tu. "As if you could forget! The cataclysm that has torn apart this land, and killed so many of our friends. Including you, twice!"

Lucy seemed terribly confused, so Tu sat down, with his eyes ever on the knife she loosely held in her left hand, and recounted the story of Ragnarok.

"This is so strange, Tu." said Lucy. "I mean, I remember a big earthquake, but when I exited the house I saw some sort of monster. I tried to kick it but, it hit me. I was certain that it was a fatal blow, but apparently not, right? I had some sort of vision; a strange dream, and I found myself here with two strangely carved daggers in my hands. I'm sorry for attacking you, this still all felt like a dream, and I wanted answers badly."
Perla spoke up, for the first time entering the conversation. "Lucy, do you believe us now, that we are who we say we are?"
"Yes Perla, yes I do. I'm still oddly mystified by the talk of myself doing all those things that you speak of, though. I have absolutely no recollection of any of it. Some type of memory loss, perhaps?"
"Perhaps Lucy, perhaps." Tu answered "For now, we all need a rest"

All of the group (including Radunk, with quite a bit of difficulty) settled in the rooftops for the night. Blissful dreams all around.

To be continued...

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Eleven)

I'm going to finish up my story series in the next few days. I wonder if I'll be able to get back into the flow? Instead of focusing my thoughts on this story, my little break has actually detached me from the plot :( It's very odd. I honestly can't think at all of what to write next. I have a feeling that this installment will be mostly rubbish. I'm forcing myself to write right now, even though I have had all day. What is wrong with me? Is this writers block? I hope not; I need to finish up the Perla Vardo series soon. Gah! I shouldn't be writing here, saying how I can't write, I need to actually be writing. I hardly remember what I wrote before. What if I use the exact same writing technique twice?

Even before the cataclysmic Ragnarok, Ethantropia had always been strange. It was like no other forest in the whole world. The north side of the forest, from which the group entered, was a dark and quite frankly, scary place. "Doesn't light ever manage to come down into this forgotten place?" wondered Perla. "Despite their appearance frightful, these trees are quite tall and hardy, and near the top of the tree the leaves are very thick.".

In his peripheral vision, Perla sighted what looked to be a figure running in the darkness.
"What was that?" asked Perla, his nerves starting to get on him.
"What was what, Perla?" answered Tu.
"I heard a noise, and I saw something. I just know I did." said Perla, swallowing in anxiety.
"There are many critters, small and large in this forest, Perla. I suggest that you get used to it."

In the distance, there appeared to be what looked like a log cabin. It was made of fine, sturdy oak, with a pine roof. Although there was a chimney, by the lack of smoke it was apparent that no fire was in the fireplace. A nervous old man just coming out the door, possibly going out on some sort of expedition. He was frightful looking, with a scruffy beard and a torn jacket.

"Hey mister!" Perla yelled out. "Can you help us?"
"Aahh! Talking toys!" screamed the old man in distress. "You be more of those demons, I'd wager. But you won't be serving me on a platter with cranberry pudding and roast duck, no sir!"

He was holding a hunting rifle that had seen better days in his weathered hands. Much to Perla's fright, he started shooting at them! "Back! Back I say!" he roared. This old man, of course, did not mean any harm. Well he did, due to the fact he was trying to kill them, but if they all sat down for a nice bit of tea I'm sure all of them would get along just nicely. Sadly, this was not possible in this instance.

Running as fast as their assorted feet could carry them, the trio escaped the flying bullets. The old man, satisfied that the intruders were run off, retreated back into his cabin. "What was that for?" asked Perla, as he sat down on a log to catch his breath. "When you think about it Perla, walking and talking toys are a bit of an abnormality in the land of humans." answered Tu. Now Perla had never heard of anything of the sort. Living in the old house, he had always assumed that toys and humans lived together in the world. Finding out the contrary was only a small step in the direction of the knowledge he would attain soon, however.

To be continued...

Spell Check

Once again doing two posts today to make up for tomorrow.

I couldn't fun function without spell check. It's one of those things, like copy and pasting, that makes writing so much easier.

Actually, after first writing it, most of my posts are filled to the brim with spelling errors. You wouldn't believe how bad it is. Luckily, I have this shiny red line that goes underneath all those misspelled words, allowing me to see what they really look like :)

One of the reasons that I like writing on the computer more than on paper, is spell check. It makes me a lazier writer, but I think it is best overall. If after looking over a rough draft of anything, I would no doubt be discouraged by the abundance of errors. Still, there are some words that I haven't even bothered to remember to spell correctly because I know that spell check will catch it, and fixing it will only take a second or two.

Sometimes spell check doesn't always work fantastic, though. I don't know if it changes with browser, but mine occasionally has trouble identifying the word that should replace the misspelled word. At times like these, I've actually found that the search engine google's spell check has better accuracy, even if it only shows one alternative.

Socially Awkward

I've been thinking lately about what being socially awkward really means. By definition, it would be someone who is awkward socially, right?

Obviously, not talking or interacting very much is almost universally socially awkward. But beyond that, who decides what is awkward, and what isn't? Society? Then we can't really label anyone as being "socially awkward", because in some other society it might be normal. Technically, it should be "socially awkward in this society". But who would actually say that?

So why do we make a big deal of it? Does it really matter? I for one am inclined to not care at all. Am I ant-social, or socially awkward in anyway? I don't know. I joke about it plenty, sure, but I don't think it makes much of a difference...

Hmm, I seemed to have kept myself from rambling on TOO long here. Yet again, this is an example of a subject that I don't care much about, but I am so desperate for posts that I use anyway. As a writer, it's a good experience. When I first started this blog, for the most part, I was very particular about what I blogged about. If the subject wasn't up to snuff, I dropped it. I have quite a few posts that were started, maybe a few lines in, that have yet to been finished. Will I go back to look at them now? I'm definitely in need of ideas. I don't know...

I'm Making A Movie...

I decided that it was high time to make a movie. So, along with my little brother and some neighbor kids, I'm hopefully going to make it happen. We shot two movies, but right now it's just raw footage.

I downloaded some fancy editing software, but we'll see if it actually does anything under my unwieldy hands. We aren't cinematographers; we have no idea how to make a good video. To be honest, my expectations are very low for its quality.

And then there's the problem with equipment. Our tripod is broken, so not only does that mean that the footage is shaky, but we have great difficulty having everyone in the video at the same time. Our camera is okay, I guess, but the quality of the resulting video isn't always the best.

The rest of my day will most likely be spent editing, there will be a lot to do. We'll see what the result is like...

Sports

I was watching my little brother, Stephen, in his first baseball game of the season (he plays in a parks and rec league), and it got me thinking about sports. As both of my competition can attest, if you have an idea for a post, use it. Because you won't get many others...

Believe it or not (if you say "not", I'll hurt you) I used to play sports when I was younger. I don't know when I actually became the nerd I am. It's not I don't like sports, it's just that I can't play at a highschool level (I pwn junior highers, though). And non-competitive sports are nice. Playing football before play practice was usually fun, and I don't mind playing other games with friends as well.

When I was in fifth or sixth grade (I don't remember exactly), I decided to join Little League Baseball. This was in Canada, of course, but I assume that it is the same structure. Before I started, my parents bought me and my brother (he was on a tee-ball team) baseball equipment. I still use the glove they bought me then, and it fits like a dream. I decided that I wanted to be a pitcher. We set up this pitching thingamigitcher, and even though I didn't practice very much, I thought I was ready.

I still remember this clearly. When my we first met my coach, he said that he liked to give people a chance to play different positions. In my young and naive mind, that basically meant that "Yeah, you can pitch". Of course, I very quickly learned that only people that athletic ability could pitch. This didn't actually bother me too much, because I had fun on third base when they didn't stick me in outfield.

My team wasn't the, uh, most capable team. In fact, out of the entire season, we only won one game. Whether this is a coincidence or not, I don't know, but I was absent that game. Yes, the ONE game my team won, I wasn't there. Ouch.

I've moved past competitive sports. Nowadays, I enjoy spending my leisurely time coding, such as learning HTML (I'm currently a beginner), CSS (intermediate skill level), and PHP (basically no skill level, I've barely started).

Wikipedia

I love Wikipedia. It's a super useful tool. Honestly, I have no idea what I did before it. How did I research anything? I probably didn't, which explains why I was so dumb. Anyway, Wikipedia is a great, user-submitted resource chock full of knowledge.

However, I am told that the first wiki ever was actually something called Wikiwikiweb. But no one has heard of it, so it doesn't count.

Which gets into one of it's problems: all content is user submitted. This of course greatly increases the amount of content that they are able to show. But, the information isn't always accurate. Still, virtually every article I have read so far is correct.

With that being said, Wikipedia is not a good place to get information when writing a research paper. Well, not exactly. Wikipedia is a good first stop, although one should always check their information later to insure that it is valid.

Wiki's have expanded from the original Wikipedia. Now, you can find a wiki strictly devoted to only one subject, which means that many things can be elaborated on. When playing a great game or watching a good anime, it isn't uncommon for me to look up the wiki devoted to it. This is a bit of a weakness, because I too often find spoilers. Still, it is a fantastic resource. I honestly have no idea how I would manage to survive Minecraft without it's wiki. Well, I could always kidnap Ryan, tie him to a chair, and force him to tell me crafting recipes...

It's fun to just browse through it, taking in article after article of information. Really, there are quite a few interesting tidbits of trivia that can be found, if one simply looks :)

Celebrities

It seems that an integral part of American culture is, quite frankly, shallow. Yes, the love of "celebrities". Those rich, smart, and beautiful people that we can't help but admire. Not. At times some might be simply eccentric, but most are just shallow. Yes, I realize that is stereotypical, and I hate stereotypes as much as you. It just seems to be an underlying theme.

One must only look at Hollywood: yes, a lot of the dumb things they say about celebrities in tabloids are made up, but there is still the fact of the extremely high divorce rates among celebrities.

Not all of them are shallow, of course. There are some celebrities that are honest, generous, hardworking folk which one can admire. But even if I admire someone who is famous, maybe because they stayed true to their beliefs, or because they are generous, would I want any of them for a role model? No, no, a thousand times no. Role models should be someone in the community around you, or at least someone you actually KNOW personally, not some famous person.

There happens to be a show on television these days called Celebrity Apprentice. It's filled with supposedly famous people (I've hardly heard of any of them. I still have no idea who Donald Trump is...) that are separated into two teams, and they work to complete some sort of task. If a team wins, they give the money prize to charity. The losing team gets a person "fired", yadadadada.... You might think that giving money to charity is noble. And, indeed, it is. But, how many people are on that show mainly because they want to help charities? I can assure you, very few. As can be expected, the drama factor is unbearable. Part of me wants to believe that a portion of the yelling, arguing, and temper tantrums are fake. and they simply want to make an "exciting" show. Because if not, many have an identity disorder that makes them think that they have the maturity of a toddler.

Now to be fair, either 1. the drama is fake or 2. the directors purposefully picked contestants with anger issues. Thus, I don't want to make that the stereotype of all celebrities. Because that's simply not true.

Why do we care about celebrities? What's special about them? They're often talented, sure. But that doesn't mean that they are better than anyone else. Okay, many celebrities don't have arrogance problems, and are actually quite humble. But there are still so many that do.

Also, we really do need to give them the same respect as we would give anyone else, because it is easy not to when criticizing them. See, maybe it isn't the celebrities that are the problem. It's possible that the problem is the managers of these celebrities, and the media too, that give them this possibly deserved, possibly not, image (and yes, I know that once again I am speaking in general). What I wish is that we appreciate their talents, and recognize that, but not go so far that we care about every detail of their personal life.

Since When Watching Sports Become A Game?

At the insistence of Abby, I will be taking a quick break from my Perla Vardo series. I'll go on to continue it in a few days though, once we all get a sufficient rest.

You might be a tad mystified by the title. By definition, aren't sports games? Yes, but when did watching them become one? I'm referring to all of the extra "entertainment" that stadium, rink, and field owners believe necessary.

A few months ago, my family went to see the Cedar Rapids hockey team, the Rough Riders, play (yeah, so we're Canadian; sue us). It seemed to all be a big game (and I'm not talking about the hockey). They had giant screens that one would assume were only used for seeing the action up close, and maybe replays. That did happen, but that wasn't all. During intermissions and pauses of action, the camera guys would start targeting people in the crowd, and show it on the big tvs. They'd look up, and scream with excitement, only to have their five seconds of fame end soon after.

They would have all sorts of crazy things, such as asking people to dance the chicken dance, play an air guitar, or sing and dance the YMCA. There was cheerleaders, mascots, and guys dressed up in all green (don't ask).

Then they would have other interactive games, such as throwing an orange puck onto the rink in an attempt to hit a bullseye, or throwing tee shirts into the stands.

But the worse thing was when the home team got a goal. Don't get me wrong, I love it when that happens, and I'm not against jumping up and screaming hooray. But the problem was that the rink owners would sell "cowbells" that, if thousands are rung in tandem, produce an annoying sound that threatens to burst one's eardrums. But that isn't all of it. Whenever a goal was scored, they would show an idiotic video of guys with what I think is ancient Roman or Greek attire, just being crazy. Yeah, it got old very, very fast.

When did they start believing that all of this was necessary? We're at a a game to watch a game, not for the nonstop idiotic entertainment, thank you. Please excuse me if next time I want to stay at home and watch on the television.

0-1

So, Abby won the blogging contest. We're going to keep going, with me feeling the immense depression that sets in after losing. So far the score is 0-1, with me, of course, in the losing side. I'll win in the long run, though.

And just for the record, my so faithful competition, this counts as tomorrow's post. So HAH!!!!!!!!!!!

Ryan, who's blog you should definitely check out, will also be in on this contest.

http://writingsofongorvad.wordpress.com/

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Ten)

The crunch of the dry leaves under Perla's feet resonated in his ears. The forest was just ahead, with giant trees reaching towards the heavens. But Perla couldn't think about that. What he was thinking about, was how he forgot about something. Something important. Actually, it was his writer who forgot it. His poor, pathetic, writer. Who now would like to remind Abby that the contest had not formally started again due to Ryan's late entry. Putting that aside, this author now humbly begs for the mercy that Abby would let him write an extra post today to make up for yesterday...

The forest ahead was dark and foreboding. Like sharpened knives, the tree's branches blocked incoming entry. Eerie wolf howls emanated from the forest. "At least she got one thing right." said Tu dryly "There are definitely wolves in there, although from out here we can not tell if they are the wolves of myth."

"Before we go in Tu, I have something to ask." said Perla quietly "The world has already ended, right?"
"Pretty much."
"And yet Harold Camping says that the world is going to end today, May 21st, 2011."
"If he was wrong about 1994, I'm not surprised that he was off by a few days now too."
"I guess then the Mayans were wrong about 2012 too..."
"You can't blame THEM for being off by a year, they had a lot less things to work with. Anyway, the forest?"
"The forest!"

With a hip, and a hop, and a "ho ho ho" the three toys ventured into the forgotten forest of Ethantropia.

To be continued...

GAHHHH!!!!!!! HOW COULD I FORGET???? As I so humbly requested before, I can do a make-up post today, right? RIGHT? RIGHT???

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Nine)

"What happened, Tu? What in the world happened? That couldn't if been Lucy, could it?" asked Perla, anxiously.

"I don't know for sure Perla, but there a few things that point one way and the other. She referred to the forest as 'Ethantropia', even though its real name is 'Sparrow Hollow'. I thought that it was an atrocious name, so I simply call it 'Ethantropia' now. It's possible that our enemies heard about it, but unlikely. As for her cryptic speaking, it is possible that it was a plot to confuse us. If she WAS a fake, and they somehow replicated her, it means that we have a much more dangerous foe than we had previously thought."

Perla had nothing to say, as was often the case. Tu's personality was such that he enjoyed making long speeches; droning on, and on, and on. Perla, on the other hand, was more quiet. He had matured a lot since living in the house; he was no longer a prankster, whose every moment was focused on entertainment, and getting a cheap laugh.

"You see Perla" started Tu, on yet another long speech "Society, technology, and culture have all receded. There are some humans about, but almost the only ones that have survived thus far are the troglodytes, secluded from the rest of their race. The cities were wiped out quickly, and easily. All conventional weaponry is useless. If we do encounter any humans on the way to Ethantropia, they will almost certainly have a savage demeanor, and it's possible that they could be violent."

"Tu, how in the world would you know all this? You've been with us the entire time!" said Perla.

"Most of this has been foretold in Icelandic myths. The rest I could piece together by what we have seen do far."

Perla was not so certain about that, but he decided that now would not be a good time for a discussion, so he saved Tu the trouble of changing the topic. "Tu" he asked "just how much that has happened so far come from Norse mythology?"

"Well Perla, bits and pieces. The flames are very much true to it, as well as those wolves that Lucy talked about. Not to mention frost giants, even though I have only seen one, and it was from very far away. There hasn't been a hard winter yet, even though that was the first thing that happened in the old myths. A central part of them, of course, were the gods. Although I don't see any Odins, Heimdalls, Lokis, or Thors, it is possible that they are being represented by beings that we are unaware of."

His thirst for knowledge temporarily sated, Perla and Tu kept on walking, being careful to skirt around the multiple dehydrated trees that had fallen and blocked the path.

Meanwhile, Radunk decided to imitate a frog. With each leap, he would say one word, repeating the same sentence over and over again "Ru Pa Glomp, Ru Pa Glomp, Ru Pa Glomp..." Every now and then he would say "Ru Pa" as one word, but it hardly mattered. Eventually, Radunk got bored of simply hopping about, so he tried to play leap frog. He leaped forward, and waited for someone to leap over him, and continue the game. Sadly, this was never to be. After a few minutes, even someone as dense in the head as Radunk could see that no one was coming. Not dismayed a bit, Radunk resigned to play leap frog with himself. The only that Radunk could accomplish this, was by doing a flip. To his surprise, he did a perfect one, with impeccable form. Although this was quite cool, he immediately got dizzy, and went back to walking normally.

Perla looked towards the horizon. For a fraction of a second, the red sky looked blue again, with white, fluffy clouds, and white doves flying in pairs. Truthfully, it was the kind of scene that made Perla sick to his stomach. Still, it was refreshing from the sky's current appearance. Of course, the entire time the sky had been red. Perla must of just had seen an optical illusion, or a mirage. Right?

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Eight)

"Lucy!" screamed Perla, all thoughts of his quest and his burning desire for justice forgotten. "Wait, Perla!" said Tu "Everything may not be as it seems. This is most likely a trap, so let us proceed carefully"

"But Tu, Lucy needs our help! We can't let her die!"

"Dear Perla, she already died. We saw it with our own eyes. There is no mistake; Lucy is dead"

But Perla hardly heard Tu's words, as he rushed forward. "She's unconscious, but I can't find anything wrong, Tu."

Despite Tu's hesitation, Perla convinced him to get a fire going, while Perla made a bed of pine needles and leaves. As he did this task, he wondered why he ever thought that pine needles would make a comfortable bed. Still, it seemed like the thing to do, and Lucy needed some sort of bed.

"Perla," Tu started "Has the fact that nothing looks wrong with Lucy seem strange to you? When we saw her die a few hours ago, she was killed by a claw to the side. It is impossible for that to be healed by now."

"There has to be an explanation for this Tu, and for that we must wait until she awakens."

All the while, Radunk, oblivious to all that was around him, tried spinning around in circles. The giant cymbals did not provide him much balance, so he fell down face first. Getting up again was quite a chore, so he simply moved his face a bit so it was in a comfortable position in the mud, and he started watching all the bugs crawling about. "Bonk! Bonk! Bonk!" he chattered excitedly. Most of the ants decide that being close to Radunk would not be the best thing, so they scurried away. One little one stayed, however. With a quizzical look on it's face, the tiny ant looked up at Radunk. From the little hop it made, we can imagine that the ant might have said "Bonk!" in return. Radunk, of course, could not hear it either. But by some miracle, he got the message. A happier little guy you never would see. He would have danced if he was standing up. In fact, he tried, but after a little while he realized that he was still on the ground. Now he figured, would be a good time to take a nap, so he did.

Perla and Tu continued their assigned tasks. When a crackle was heard, and a small flame flared up, its light cast a small glow on Lucy's face. She gave a start, and then opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" she asked, ever so quietly." Despite Tu's glare in his direction, Perla replied "Safe. You are with friends now, Lucy."

"Oh, my goodness, I thought that I was a goner. When those wolves attacked, I thought that I could've never survived. But here I am, right?"

"What wolves, Lucy? When you were killed, it was by shadow monsters." said Tu, in a very suspicious tone of voice.

"Now you seem to be as confounded as I, when I met you just a little bit ago. You mentioned something about shadow monsters then too, but you seemed to know what was going on." said Lucy.

"How do we know that this isn't a trap set by our enemies? How do we know that you are the real Lucy?" said Tu, standing up.

Lucy also stood up, until she was face to face with the teddy bear. "Do you even know who your enemies are? And I am very confused; back in Ethantropia you said..."

"What about Ethantropia?" said Perla "We were just on our way there now."

"What? You haven't been there yet Perla? But before..."

"Please tell us all you know." said Tu "It might enlighten us about a few things, and possibly this confusion might be cleared up."

"No, no, no. I just don't know." stuttered Lucy.

A shiver went through all of the camp. Then a long, hoarse, screech. "They've found us Perla!" Tu roared. "We must get away!". Tension ran high; if this was a movie, the scary music would be playing right about now. All of a sudden, everything seemed well. A certain peace was about, and then, BOOM!

The earth itself turned, and twisted, and rose into the air. Now, what looked like statues made of earth surrounded them. If Perla was in his right mind, he might of commented how yet again they had a stereotypical enemy. But, alas, he was not in his right mind. No fear was to be found in Perla's soul. He wanted what he wanted, and these statues were in the way. He stepped forward, a cynical smile on his face, when Lucy ran up to one. Her twin daggers magically appearing in her hand, she roundhouse kicked the statue. With inhuman speed, he caught her kick. And with a laugh, pummeled her into the ground. Hard.

"Not again." thought Perla, the notion repeating over and over in his head. What seemed to be a sonic boom ripped through the clearing.

One at a time, Perla's eyes opened. As his vision cleared, he saw that the living statues were now broken on ground; as dangerous as a piece of pottery. "Did I do this?" he wondered. The rage in him at the time was so strong, he could not remember a thing. Then, he thought of Lucy. He rushed over to her. "Please, please be alright." he cried. But despite his insistence otherwise, it was unavoidable: Lucy was dead.

To be continued...

Oh, on a side note, I almost have 1337 blog views...

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Seven)

"The first thing to do" said Tu "Is to plot an attack plan. If we simply wonder the Earth looking their leader, we will have gray hairs on our gray hairs by the time we are done."

"Where our are enemies?" asked Perla "And how do we even know that there is a mastermind behind all of this? Is it not possible that all of this happened of its own accord?"

"No, I don't think so, Perla. Ragnarok is happening for a reason, and we must stop it. As for the location of our enemies, the forest of Ethantropia sounds like a good place to start. In it, the oldest trees in the entire world grow. Due to the fact that trees play a large part in the Norse mythology on which this is based, we might find a suitable alternative for the 'world tree'"

"Is it far from here, Tu? I don't think that I can walk much farther"

At this, Radunk said "Boing!" Until this point, Radunk has not been mentioned in this story. This was not because of his very interesting personality. No, it was due to the fact that he has hardly a single thing to do with the plot of this tale. He did not give any inspiring speeches, he did not fight any wars, and he did not have any wars fought for him. Instead, he was usually just in the background muttering indecipherable sayings. Although every now and then he would say a real word or phrase, it scarce had to do with what was happening at the time, and he would be better off sticking with simple sounds.

Radunk was a short, plastic figurine of a monkey with giant cymbals permanently affixed to his hands. One would not be surprised that this would render a toy such as Radunk insane. Radunk was the only toy besides Tu and Perla that still lived after the catacomb and prison incidents. Now, back to Tu's and Perla's conversation which we so rudely interrupted.

"Well Perla, Providence has smiled upon us, even under such bleak and depressing circumstances; the legendary forest of Ethantropia is only a few miles southwest from here."

"How in the world do you know things such as this, Tu?" Asked Perla.

Tu was silent for a long time, as the trio clomped through the mud. The rain had subsided, although no sun appeared: thus, the atmosphere was not lightened.

"Perla, things such as that do not concern you. I can provide my utmost assurances that information such as this would not hamper or aid us in our quest."

Any further discussion that Perla might have pressed on about was done away with by a spectacle further up the path: Lucy the rabbit, laying motionless on the ground.

To be continued...

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Six)

A cold dreary rain washed through Perla's entire body. A dreadful day, which could not have gotten any worse, just did. His entire life was gone. He had no identity left. What now? What emotions could survive this cataclysm? Revenge? No, the drizzly rain simply made him apathetic. Perla simply wished that all this pain would go away. Not necessarily that life would go back as it was, that was too much to hope for. His reactions were mixed: should he put all of his effort and energy into trying to make sure that the toys that survived would go on to live healthy and fruitful lives? Or should he abandon all hope, and simply sit in the mud until he became one with it, and his life sniffed out?

These heavy thoughts filled Perla's head until he could bare it no more. "I must have sleep" he whispered, dropping onto the ground with a low, mournful, sigh. "No!" Tu thundered. "We must keep going, Perla. it cannot end like this, not like this!"

"Does it matter now?" Perla snapped back, with a ferocity that he did not know that he had. "Life as we know it is gone, dead forever. Do we need to keep on fighting? We can't save them now, we can't save anyone."

"It does matter Perla, oh, it does matter. How could we expire with our consciences like this? To know that we did not give all that we had, and that we had doomed so many others. I know that you are so deep into the throes of despair that you hardly care Perla, but I beseech you. With every fiber of my being, listen to me!"

"What could we do Tu, even if we tried? How could I pledge myself to a cause that has no hope of success? All I have ever known is gone, all my friends cannot be saved, what is the point Tu? What is the point?"

"You might not see a light to the end of this darkness, and you may not see anything that we can do. But I'll tell you this: in all of history, those who have succeeded in the end, those who win, are those that have nothing to lose. That is what we have become Perla, and let us use it for our advantage. It is true, our friends are beyond saving. But our duty to them, as binding as a solemn oath, is to keep this from happening to anyone else. Then, and only then, may we rest in peace.

Tu's words hit Perla like a hurricane: thrusting new ideas and concepts that either he had not thought of, or he had not been willing to admit. Reason washed over Perla, and he took Tu's suggested goal as his life's purpose. Perla would keep on going until this enemy was gone, so that no one else had to endure all that he had gone through. Little did he know at the time, he had not really known pain. He had not really known fear. He had not really known despair. But he would, very soon. Oh, so very soon. It would not be long until he would regret this choice, and curse the very day that he had been born.

To be continued...

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Five)

"You know?" whispered Mattindell in disbelief. "Of course." answered Tu flatly. "You should of talked to me first, before going on with this wild plan of yours".

"What!" screamed Mattindell. "Wild plan? This is the only way justice will be done, and I have a feeling that you are my enemy in this matter."

"Your justice is twisted and convoluted" answered Tu. "I suggest that we work together if you want anything to get done"

"Your words mean nothing to me, Tu. I've seen, I've seen. And I won't let you or anyone else get away with it. Even if it means my death, I'm taking you with me!"

"Oh, your death seems very probable. But if you think that I will fall with you, you are are sorely mistake. Now let us not wait here any longer; the shadow monsters are right behind us. You wouldn't want to the innocents to die too, right? Even you are not that far gone."

"Mattindell paused for a few seconds, although it seemed to those involved like an eternity. "Alright Tu" he answered. "We'll have it your way. But mark my words, you will not win this day!"

"Please, we have to go NOW!" said Rutherford. "We can not let any more of us die today."

Shaken the group put on a burst of speed. "There is a light ahead!" Said Perla. "I think that we can finally get out of this hole!"

Brilliant sunlight flooded the toys, as if recharging them, and erasing all of their stress. Then, as if it was an illusion, the light was gone. They were back on a bleak, devastated world, with no hope. The hole that they had crawled out of exited in an old, forgotten prison. Although it had long since been abandoned, the barbed wire fences still stood, and the gate was still locked tight. An uneasy feeling aroused itself in Perla. This seemed too planned: first their numbers were dwindled down by the catacombs, and now they were in what looked like an ambush. Before, they might of put up a good fight. Now, they had no chance of survival except if the toys managed to get out of the prison. More monsters appeared out of the prison buildings: they HAD planned all of this.

Mattindell took his magnificent sword out of his sheath. With a nod to the tin soldiers, who also prepared their weapons, he got ready to make his final stand. Lucy took out twin daggers, and took her place to the right of the tin soldiers. Perla, Rutherford, Tu, and several other toys had no weapons or fighting expertise, so they tried to get past the barbed wire wall. Perla, Tu, and a couple other toys started digging, trying to tunnel their way under the fence. Rutherford desperately attempted to climb the fence. He slowly reached the top, but when his hand grasped the barbed wire, he slipped, pulling the wire with him. He hit the ground with a horrific "clunk". A scene flashed into Perla's head, of his dream, recreated before him.

Lucy nervously shifted her weight over her two feet. She wished with all of her heart that it could of ended differently than this. The again, if it ended like this and the world was saved, it would all be worth it. She knew that her group were not trying to defeat the shadow monsters, because that would be impossible. Instead, they simply had to try to give the others as much getaway time as possible. A monster right in front of her. A quick slash with her right dagger exterminated that threat. The another, and another. As she roundhouse kicked one, another in her blind spot attacked with it's claws. Then, all was black...

Perla looked back. Thump. Lucy fell, just as he had saw in his dream. Mattindell raised his sword high, in an attempt to kill yet another monster. Despite his skill, he also was hit by a slash in the side. Tu managed to get a hole ready. Perla crawled under. Looking back once more, he saw all the tin soldiers broken on the ground. Thump.

To be continued...

I've noticed that the overall quality of my stories are going down. Although plot is going along just nicely (you haven't seen anything yet, trust me), the writing just isn't as good...

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Four)

Perla ran as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. He had been separated from Tu in the crowd, but he saw that Lucy was not very far away. Still, the shadow monsters continued their chase. They exited the main area of the cave, and entered a maze of catacombs. seeing their chance, the toys rushed in, hoping to find an escape rout from the fiends. Those that found themselves at dead ends received a gruesome fate via the hungry monsters behind them.

Perla went this way and that, feelings of claustrophobia setting in. At the end of the maze, Paula saw a good portion of the toys. Included among them: Tu, Rutherford, Lucy, Mattindell, and all of the tin soldiers. Tragically, of the sixty toys that entered the maze, about half of them did not come out alive. Spirits down, the remaining group hurried away.

"What were those beings?" asked Perla.
"Shadows, that was clear." shuddered Rutherford "but they seemed to be living shadows"
"Mattindell, I've been wondering" started Tu. "Why didn't you try to attack the shadows with your sword? I've never known you to flee easily, and yet you seemed to have run away without any hesitation."

At this, Mattindell stopped walking. He slowly turned around, a snarl on his face. "What are you trying to say, old man? That I'm a coward now?"
"It was a simple question. I advice that you answer it"
Tu too stopped walking. A confrontation seemed to be heating up, "But at what?" Perla wondered. At first glance, it just seemed like Tu and Mattindell were just trying to relieve stress. Tu questioning Mattindell's courage, and Mattindell questioning Tu's leadership. But it seemed to be much more, like a battle was being fought on an imaginary plane that Perla could not comprehend.

To be continued...

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Three)

Blogspot is having some technical difficulties, so they deleted the second part of the Ragnarok Chronicles. I believe that they are going to retrieve it, but it might take awhile.

Perla rose from his bed and entered the main chamber of the cave. There was a flurry of activity; they had been in the cave for two days, and now the toys were picking up their meager belongings. When they saw Perla, they looked at him with mixed reactions of fear, awe, and plain confusion. Undaunted, Perla rested his weary body against a protruding stalagmite.

"How could all of this happened so quickly?" Perla wondered to himself silently. A few days ago, the toys didn't have a care in the world. Now, there was a certain uneasiness. Most of the world's population was quickly, very quickly, dieing off. And all he could do was sit here; and not do anything about it.

A crack like thunder took hold of everyone's attention. In the very centre of the cave, a light shone from a hole in the ceiling. From this hole came hoards of shadow monsters. The toys screamed in panic and ran for cover outside. Perla caught hold of Tu in the crowd, and decided that the best place for him would be to stick close to the elderly old teddy bear.

"Tu!" Perla cried. "Don't you think that 'shadow monsters' are a pretty lame excuse for the story's main enemy? What in the world is wrong with this writer?"
"Don't do that." Tu answered.
"Do what?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"Because then I would be doing it."
"You're not making much sense, Tu..."
"Perla, can we just get out of here before the shadow monsters attack us?"
"Oh, it's okay, we have all the time we need." Said Perla calmly. "The writer would have to be pretty lame to kill main characters like us so soon in the story. He was hoping to get at least ten parts out of this story, after all."
"Would you PLEASE stop doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"I THOUGHT that we had been over this, I can't tell you, or else I would be doing it myself."
"I think that you need to be less grumpy, Tu."
"YOU would be grumpy too, if an annoying toy keeps on breaking the fourth wall."
"You just did it."
"Did what?"
"Break the fourth wall. You acknowledged that it existed, which means that you broke it..."
"Please Perla, can we just pretend that there isn't a fourth wall, and that we never broke it? The story flows better that way."
"I guess, but I think we should say hi to Abby and Ryan first. After this we'll have to pretend that they don't exist."
"Alright Perla, but just this one time"
"Actually Tu, can I give them a hug? It would be a rather odd thing coming from our author, but I think a yellow plush toy would be alright."
"Okay Perla, okay. You can give them a hug too."
"What about Kilgalan and Marthadok from The Elori Saga?"
"Marthadok would probably administer a good whack or two with the flat side of his dagger if you tried a stunt like that"
"Okay Tu, what about some characters from Abby's blog?"
"Didn't you know, Perla? Abby's characters always die at the end."
"That's pretty depressing."
"What else can you expect from a girl that never wears matching socks?"
"Good point."
"Okay Perla, NOW can we go back to the story? I believe that we were running away from shadow monsters last time I checked."
"Stereotypical shadow monsters that took no imagination from this lousy author of ours to think up of..."

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles (Part Two)

Lucy strode into Paula's corner of the cave, closing behind her the sheet had been put up to give the patient some privacy, and to reduce (unsuccessfully) the amount of noise that the patient heard. Paula was of course familiar with Lucy, as he was to all of the toys: she was impulsive and sometimes rash, but she had a kind heart. And her smile could light up a thousand rooms. But this Lucy seemed different. Her eye's had a cold, hard, callous look.

Maybe she was just mad? That seemed to be obvious. Yet it seemed to Perla to be so much more than that. Something menacing. Lucy walked forward, and with great difficulty, as a tear rick rolled down her cheek, she started to speak. But before a word left her mouth, the knight Mattindell pushed past the curtain too.

He was a beautiful toy, a doll so to speak (although those that would actually play with him would probably prefer the term "action figure" instead). He had a full suit of silver armour, with the slightest trim of gold. A red feather adorned his helm. He had no shield, due to the fact that his behemoth of a sword required two hands to wield properly. The blade flared up to the tip, causing it to look quite menacing. The hilt and pommel were magnificent, precious gems infused in them: A diamond, sapphire, aquamarine, opal, ruby, and amethyst in the hilt, and a large emerald served as the pommel. Each stone shone like a sun, displaying its's high quality to all. It seemed quite odd that someone would put valuable jewels in a children's toy, though. But the strangest thing of all was the fact that the blade was sharp. This seems to go against everything you would expect; because why would someone make a toy and then give it something so dangerous as a sword that a child could hurt himself on? Yet, it had always been so.

Mattindell looked directly at Lucy with a piercing glance. Immediately, Lucy's entire behavior changed. With what looked like a slight shrug of relief, she walked out of the room.

"I'm so terribly sorry Perla, but there is no need to worry; you will not be interrupted again"

Once again, Perla entered the world of dreams. His following dream was so vivid, he would remember, and ponder upon, it for many days to come. He was falling, falling from the sky. The Earth was green, like it had been before ragnarok. Below him was a grove filled with trees that were twisted in all sorts of amusing shapes. He was falling with such alacrity, he reached the ground in mere moments. But instead of hitting the surface with great impact, he went through the ground. He would later compare it to falling through a painting, with a large hole in the canvas left behind. Another ground below him. This time, it was an open book that smelled of a familiar scent. Through again, he just kept falling. Now portraits of several of the toys in peculiar positions. Lucy, roundhouse kicking some sort of dark blob; Mattindell holding his sword high; Tu resting peacefully on a bed; Broken tin soldiers littered on the ground; Rutherford surrounded by barbed wire; and last of all, Perla, sitting in a high-backed chair, flames flowing like water behind him, and a malevolent smile on his face.

Perla awoke in the morning to the sight of Tu standing next to the bed, watching him with anxious anxiety.

"What happened?" asked Perla.
"As foretold in Norse mythology, the end of the world is here. Everywhere, people are dying in higher and higher numbers. Those that aren't burned alive by the flames are crushed by giants made up of ice or fire." answered Tu plainly.
"Wouldn't the flames of ragnarok melt the ice giants?"
"No, no. It doesn't work that way. Anyone who expects the laws of nature to act normally in times like these really needs to get out more."
"As if I could get out, do to the fact that I've lived solely in an old house all my life."
"Good point."
"Tu, how long do we have before the flames reach us?"
"Depends. In this cave, a day or two. If we manage to find a sacred tree that somehow is also immune to fire, we might be able to wait this out."
"What will happen if we do make it out of this alive?"
"I assume that some sort of evil dictator will take over the world and make slaves of the survivors (which would be the people who also managed to find a sacred tree to find refuge in)."
"Tu, you seem to act like it isn't that big of a deal."
"Putting aside the ethics of slaughtering trillions of people, who knows that this new ruler won't be better than the ones we've had so far? But enough of this. Perla, do you think that you can walk?"
"Yes, I believe so, if I take it slow."
Fantastic. We're moving out."
"But I thought that you said that we would have a few days of solace here!"
"Sure, but what would we do? Wait here until a few days pass and then die a miserable death? No thanks. I prefer more active approaches"
At this, Tu walked out of the room.

To be continued...

I'm not that happy with this portion of the story, especially the bit with Lucy. Most of this is bad writing. It has a few redeeming parts, I did manage to smooth out some of the more offending parts, but overall it isn't as good as I am capable of. Just like I told Ryan yesterday, my eloquence (which wasn't even that good in the first place) seems to have withered...

Perla Vardo: The Ragnarok Chronicles

Due to the strong encouragement of Ryan Carlile, I have decided to continue my "Perla Vardo" short story series. Maybe explore a few things that I missed the first time around. This continues where "The Forgotten Toy" left off.

Energy coursed through Perla's veins (figuratively, of course) . A side of him that had lain dormant for oh so many years, awakened. Usually, Perla was a mischievous, but good natured toy. But now, it was like he was a different person. He didn't feel different, but he was suddenly capable of so much more. Now, he was malevolent. Everyone had seen it coming except for one individual; the person who needed to know it the most; Perla.

A terrible laugh, echoing from the deepest depths of his soul erupted. It was a hard laugh, not filled with hate necessarily, but with the ever possible ability to do harm, and the wish to do so. Perla was suddenly quieted when a fierce karate chop to his neck forced him to enter the world of unconsciousness. Tu the teddy bear stood over Perla's limp body, a grim expression on his face, looking as ragged and frail as ever.

"We have to get out of here" Tu hurriedly told the other toys behind him. "Our house is no longer safe for us. Nay, not a speck of dust on the entire Earth is really safe. But, we must find a place to recuperate for now. Let us be on our way. Can someone take care of poor Perla?". Two tin soldiers, working in tandem managed to pick up Perla, and carry him alongside the group.

Tu had quickly been given the mantle of leader. Although he was always thought to be good for only little bits of wisdom (and that was only when he managed to muster enough energy to speak), he now looked as spry as a teddy half his age (which still would be pretty old). He also now had a commanding air to him that wasn't there before.

Rain gushed from the heavens, but even it's torrent of liquid could not stop the spread of the awful flames. The toys were absolutely miserable; some of the toys that had metal body parts were dreadfully sure that they were going to rust. "If the flames didn't get burn them to death, then a flood would surely sweep them away" they joked, desperately trying anything that might boost moral, and keep hope alive.

Perla awoke in a cave. He probably would have exclaimed something that would express his confusion at the new turn events, but he had an awful headache, and he couldn't even sit up. "Relax, don't exert yourself. You've been through a lot" Rutherford the sock monkey (and resident doctor) quietly whispered. Perla was surprisingly calm. None of the tension, or malicious joy, from the previous night existed. He was back to his old self. He barely managed to consider this, when he went back to a restful sleep.

He was awoken once again by sound of loud arguing.
"Don't give me that rubbish! I want to see Perla now!"
"I can't! He is sleeping, just let him rest a short while longer."
"Let me through Rutherford! Or it will be your neck!"
"Tu told me to take care of Perla, and that is what I intend to do. And please lower your voice down, alright?"

"What is it?" said Perla weakly, by force of habit trying to garner attention. "See! He is awake." said the intruder. "Now please let me through!". At this point, Perla saw a very angry stuffed rabbit named Lucy...

Time Travel

Time Travel is today, as flying was in the 19th century; an impossible feat that only dreamers and people who don't understand aerodynamics or science think about. Thus, Time Travel is mostly confined to science fiction. But I for one, find that it is quite the thought provoking topic, so today I will present a few theories that I have heard. Note that even though I saw "theory", that isn't necessarily correct. A theory has some evidence in it's favor, and there has been much experimentation to see if it can be disproven, but so far it holds up. Time Travel on the other hand, is more like a weak, unconfirmed, hypothesis.

Also note that when I say "time travel", I mean being able, to some extent, control the flow of time. Because technically, we time travel every day, but it is at the same controlled rate. I also do consider the slight travel to the future, by a billionth of a second (as observed by scientists), to be time travel.

1. If you go back in time, the future you came from is affected. Example: You help Napoleon win the battle of Waterloo, thus allowing him to take over Europe. When you go back the future, world history is drastically changed.

Problem: Primarily, the Grandfather Paradox, and other similar paradoxes. In the Grandfather Paradox, a time traveling grandchild goes back in time and kills a grandparent. Thus, he was never born. Thus, he could not exist to go back in time to kill his grandparent. Thus, he is alive because his grandparent is alive because the grandchild wasn't alive to murder the grandparent. It just keeps on going in a cycle...

2. When you go back in time and change something, you are creating an alternate reality; the future that you came from is not changed. Example: If you go back and stop the Mario games from being created, there would be one reality with Mario, and one without him.

Problem: There would be great difficulty navigating the parallel universes. How would you know which was which? And any length of time traveling would produce a great number of different realities.

3. Instead of being separated from time while it is flowing, you and everyone else must re-live it. Example: A guy punches you in the face and you get a black eye. You force time to reverse, and time goes backwards. Your face is miraculously healed as his fist retreats. At this point, time starts again. You duck, and give him a black eye.

Problem: Because it is essentially pressing the "rewind" button, there can be some difficulty going to the future. Depending on the theory, impossible. Also, one could not go farther back in time than his birth.

Rain!

This morning, I was doing my math and somewhat thinking of a post for today (I was actually PREPARING this time, what a thought!), when I suddenly heard some thunder. This, of course, meant that there was RAIN! I've been itching to do a post about rain for a very long time. So, I of course disregarded the fact that there was lighting outside, and went out anyway. 

You might of seen me, in fact. The little skinny kid running around barefoot with his arms out like an airplane doing a rendition of "singing in the rain"? Yeah, that was me. I refrained from actually "dancing", but I think that pretending to be a plane made up for it.

Eventually, the more prudent side of me that had lain dormant for most of it, decided that it would be sensible to go inside. The other part of me begrudgingly agreed, if only because my feet were really dirty and had lots of grass stuck to them.

Tulip Time

Note: I will once again be taking advantage of the two posts in a day if you can't get on the next day rule.

Today my family went to visit my sister Emily, who currently is studying at Central College in Pella, Iowa. The visit was timed so that not only would we be able to cart a few of her things back home, because she is going to finish up in a week, but we also got to enjoy the yearly festival called "Tulip Time".

Pella is a town that is primarily made up of people who are descendants of people who migrated from Holland. Thus, there is a lot of Dutch heritage in the town. The town is very quaint, with the downtown shops often having the Dutch feel, and also it isn't uncommon on see them having Dutch names (Such as the "Jaarsma Bakery"). In addition, there are two windmills, one fairly small and one of a good size that give the town a great atmosphere.

The Tulip Time festival is taken very seriously in Pella, there were literally thousands and thousands of people in the streets, and there were hundreds and hundreds of people in traditional Netherlands attire (many of the old clothes were passed down from ancestors). I noticed a small dance group in the streets, dancing in clogs (those wooden Dutch shoes).

Not to mention the flowers, the entire reason for the name of the festival. They were all around the town square, which was basically a park, not to mention that you could see plenty of tulips just around town.

There were some of the most delicious you've ever tasted there; I ate everything from donuts, to peanut butter bars, to dutch letters, to peanut butter truffles, to several other types of food that I have great difficulty spelling.

After seeing all there was to see in the downtown, we listened to my sister's steel pan concert (don't ask; it's complicated). Overall, I had a great time in Pella. It probably would of been better if I hadn't received a bad sunburn on my neck, though...

Gary The Golf Club

Public Service Announcement: This post does not necessarily represent the views of Place The Title Here. Place The Title Here is not legally liable for anything this post instructs you to do. If, for example, this post tells you to rob a bank, we will not go to jail for you instead. Do your own time. And while we are at it, we might as well keep up giving positive messages: Kids, stay in school. Except if you're homeschooled, because you would be doing that anyway, whether you did school work or not. This is the end of this Public Service Announcement.

Hey there, my name is Gary the Golf Club! I hear that some weirdo named "John" or something or other usually does the posting here. I went through a few of them, and they were mostly trash. So, I'll be doing his post for today! Because sadly, he is a bit "preoccupied" at the moment *muffled scream from closet*. Oh, that wasn't a scream, that was my toaster. It, uh, has some delicious toast, yum...

I am here today to address a plight that has been sweeping this nation: Golf Club abuse. Most people see golf as a nice sport to help them relax. I beg to differ. How would YOU like to be forced, day in, day out, to hit a golf ball? It gives me headaches just thinking about it. Not to mention all the lousy golfers that miss the tee altogether, and end up making us hit the grass instead (I don't think that that stain will EVER come out...).

When we aren't being used, you humans put us in a golf bag with the rest of our brethren. Hanging out with the guys is great, but there is thing called "personal space". You don't go in my bubble, I don't go in your bubble, and everything works out. Well, that really can't work WHEN I'M CRAMMED IN A BAG WITH YOU!

Those things aren't fun at all, but the least that you could do would be to give us some respect. Clean us ONCE in awhile, okay? The dirt and sand build up culminates over time, until we are basically coated with  it. You take baths, right? (Well, some of you do, anyway.) So why don't you let us get clean again too?

Frying Pans

In various media today, the humble frying pan has many tasks and duties, which it performs with utmost skill. Sadly, when the awards are given out, everyone seems to have a momentarily lapse of sanity, and they forget to remember the frying pan. I, at this point, wish to commemorate it's many achievements.

1. The well of the pan. Here, delectable goodies can be fried, browned, or seared. Not to mention, this is the part of the pan that usually hits the enemy's cranium when the user sees fit to use the pan as a weapon.

2. The side of the pan. The sides often flare upwards, and are very low. It is mentioned here today because most of the leading scientists in this field agree that the low sides attributes to the aerodynamics of the pan as it is flying through the air, increasing it's velocity to the highest level.

3. The handle of the pan. How well the grip feels in one's hand can become the difference between life and death in a melee. Often there is some sort of ring at the end so that it can attach the pan to a utility belt, along with the rest of one's arsenal.





Famous characters that use a Frying Pan

Kirby (Various Kirby games): The video game character Kirby also is very skilled in the art of the frying pan. He gains the weapon whenever he becomes Chief Kirby. The pan has been used as a makeshift tennis racket, a shield, to make delicious entrees (duh), and a reflector.

Rapunzel (Tangled): The use of a frying pan is very pronounced in Tangled, a charming 
2010 animated movie.  The pan was used often for comic relief, with characters saying things such as "I've got to get one of these!" when they brained yet another enemy with a borrowed pan. If I had a dime for every time someone was hit with a frying pan in this movie,well, I'd have less than a dollar. But still...

Paula (Earthbound): What do you use when fighting inanimate objects, aliens with great posture, and giant rodents? Awesome PSI powers, of course. But Paula's frying pan helped too.

Sam (Lord of the Rings): Frodo has a magical blade that glows blue whenever goblins or orcs are close by. Sam has a frying pan. I wonder which is better...

A Grape-Eating Sasquatch

Recently, a friend and myself were having a facebook chat. It turned out to be quite delightful, so it occurred to me share it with you right now. I asked his permission to use his words. Using more words than was absolutely necessary, he replied that I could. I think.

John: Is that a Ryan I see?

Ryan: Not really; your eyes must be duping you, John...

John: Ah, you are probably right...

Ryan: Or, I could be duping you into THINKING your eyes are the ones doing the duping; wouldn't that be sinisterly ingenious?

John: Most likely. It would probably cause the brain of anyone that tried to comprehend it to twist and turn until it reached a state of bodyless goo.

Ryan: Certainly. You've reached a fair conclusion with your incisive mind, Mr. Sawatzky. An admirable feat indeed. How do you fare, Monsieur John? Or do French titles offend you?

John: In order for a French title to offend me, it would need to cause, in the higher plain of philosophical thinking, a wake of destruction so vast that it could be compared to a Sasquatch eating a grape.

Ryan: You've left propriety behind with your senseless rambles, Mr. Sawatzky; care to explain to me in what manner destruction is caused by the consumption, of a grape, by Sasquatch? Without this information, I have no point of comparison when juxtaposing the destruction of both French titles and grape-eating Sasquatches alike...

And, without the comparison, we won't know if it offends you. Do please explain, Mr. Sawatzky, so that we might both be enlightened by this truly significant conversation...

John: You haven't ever seen a Sasquatch eat a grape, have you, Ryan-kun? (or do Japanese honorifics offend you?). You would have no need of this knowledge if you were aware of the full details of this event. Sadly, the phenomenon only happens in Canada, during the Sasquatch mating season. It is quite a tragedy that it doesn't happen anymore, most of the Sasquatches got eaten by moose (they ate all they could in Alaska).

Ryan: kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Heh - one second...

John: Having trouble, sir?

Ryan: Sorry; the deferment of my reply was necessitated by an unexpected call from a compatriot of mine...

Allow me a brief moment to respond to your charming and winsome anecdote, Mr. Sawatzky...

Firstly, Japanese honorifics (or obeisances in any way, shape or form) do not affront me one bit; however, I have found Tunisian ones to border on the impertinent, so I would refrain from using those...

Second, while your details of Sasquatches and their grape-consuming tendencies were both intriguing and well-written, I must express my dissatisfaction with its lack of pertinence to the matter at hand. You still have neglected to explain to me HOW it is Sasquatches eating grapes is terrifyingly destructive...

Aside from the predatory moose, of course...

John: You are not thinking correctly, Mr. Carlile. How could I describe such remarkable occurrence, if I was not a Sasquatch myself? Or are you implying such a dreadful thought? I know at times I might be hairy, and my bodily aroma might not be the most pleasant, but nothing compared to a Sasquatch!

Ryan: Are you admitting as much, Mr. Sawatzky? Your surname bears an awful resemblance to the fabled Sasquatch...

And, if you cannot describe the occurrence, where is our reference point? How am I to determine, by comparison, whether or not you are affronted by French titles?

John: I guess you will never know...

Ryan: I suppose not.

Oh, Facebook...

Like a lot of people these days, I have a Facebook account. It works for me, cause basically the only way that I can be social is on the internet...

Anyway, Facebook has a lot of uses, along with the mundane reasons that you usually use Facebook for, it works great when trying to find lost family after a natural disaster like the one's in Haiti and Japan. Sadly, there are things about that can be annoying. Particularly, friend requests. I'm not talking about your best friends, but acquaintances. People that you could recognize by face, and MIGHT even be able to say their name (don't count on good pronunciation, though). I don't use facebook a whole lot (except for poking people), so I don't have THAT many friends. But, what happens when a friend request from an acquaintance comes in? You might have a bazillion mutual friends, but you really don't KNOW each other.

I have about 12 friend requests that are just waiting to be answered. Yes or no? We're supposed to be friendly to everyone, right? So parted of me is tempted to answer each and everyone one of them "yes", and then try to friend everyone in the world. But, that probably isn't the best idea.

Despite the feeling that you get from this post, facebook friends aren't really a cause of stress for me. I just needed something to write about...

The Name

When I first made this blog oh so long ago, I decided on "Place The Title Here". It was mostly a N00bish attempt at being witty, but now I am really glad that I chose it.

The title can be taken several different ways, but one that I've been thinking of lately is how I can really post about ANYTHING I want. I simply "place the title" of whatever I want to blog about, and I'm good to go. I am in no way, shape, or form confined to a particular way of blogging. When I first started, I was convinced that I was amazingly smart, and my thoughts and opinions on issues should be exalted high,  and no one could comprehend new ideas quite as well as I. Well, maybe I wasn't that arrogant, but at times it was close :P

Also, I've decided to write this blog for me. Other people might not care if I post about a particular topic, and even though I put that into consideration, it doesn't matter. I hope to continue to write this blog in the way that would like to see one written.

Osama Bin Laden

As many of you know, Osama Bin Laden was recently killed by by some U.S. soldiers, after a manhunt of gigantic magnitude that took almost ten decades. Usually, I wouldn't hear about information like this at all (and if I did, it would be weeks and weeks after the event happened), if not for the fact that my status feed on facebook is filled with dozens of  overjoyed people celebrating his death. I understand that he was a terrorist, and he caused a lot of pain for a lot of people, but does he deserve us spitting on his grave?

To be fair, some just say it as a statement if fact. Others wish that we could all have a big party to celebrate it, but I have yet to see one that was remotely sympathetic.  Didn't the guy have family? (If the U.S. hasn't killed them yet, that it).

So far I have been pretty cynical towards the U.S. (some of it for good reason). But what are my feelings right now? Part of me is glad that he can no longer cause any more pain (although the next leader of the al Qaida might be even worse). But, I also wish that there could of been some other solution, besides simply assassinating him.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that we should commemorate his deeds, or dumb the evilness of his deeds down. I think that that would be wrong. I just think that we should give ANY life, no matter how misguided or sinful that person was, respect. I'm also not defending him, he did some very bad things. I just think that we all can have a better attitude about it.