Saturday, July 29, 2006


Observations on Flash Gordon (the Movie):

1. Galaxy of Pleasure
Apparently there is a Galaxy of Pleasure (where the dream wine comes from, the wine that many brave men have died to bring to Mungo). My question is: where is this place and why would these brave men ever leave it? An ENTIRE GALAXY! This does beg the question: in this entire galaxy (admittedly dedicated to pleasure) who does actual work? Do they have migrant workers from, say, our galaxy who commute to the pleasure galaxy to clean hot tubs and man the condom factories?


2. Headstone
There is an artifact somewhere that I must have. It is Flash Gordon’s HEADSTONE from the movie. It says:

Flash Gordon
Earthling
Executed
By
Ming

I have to have this thing. I want to be buried under it.

3. People Magazine
Now, when Flash Gordon and Dale get to Dr. Zarkoff’s lab by crashlanding the plane, the pilots have already fallen out. They’re gone. Then Flash and Dale and Dr. Zarkoff blast off in Dr. Zarkoff’s rocket and never come back to Earth (at least not for a few years). The only thing left on the plane is an issue of People magazine with Flash on the cover. Flash autographed the thing at the pilot’s request (just before they died) and put in a personal dedication to the pilot’s son, whose name is Buzz.
I mean, how fucked is Buzz? His father is DEAD. All he got out of this deal is an autographed People magazine by the quarterback of the New York Jets. Admittedly, how frigging valuable would this be to some genuine NFL freak?
The quarterback of the New York Jets is presumed dead, his frozen corpse is in some rocket in deep space, and his last communication on Earth is the People magazine autograph. I mean, this sucker would fetch a pretty penny.

4. Princess Aura
Portrayed by Ornella Mutti. There is nothing funny about her. I just had to mention her. It was a need. ‘Not the bore-worms!’ Ok, that’s funny.

Hail Flash!

The Yellow Band - Part 4

'Tonight I will try to dream of the door. So that I can go back to where I came from,' said Chorgil. 'Swim through memories I chose to put aside.'
'You could drink,' said Stilt. 'Many men do, to forget.'
Sylvia frowned. She looked up at Stilt and shook her head. 'He must not do that. His memories are like raging waters held by a feather-thin dam. If it breaks, they will devour him. It's the way Elves die. The ones that are not killed.'
Shadows coalesced in the air around the Elf's head. Some of them were flickering visions of frail beauty.
'He had lovers?'
'Thousands,' sighed Chorgil. His sigh sounded like it came from many throats. 'Thousands and thousands and thousands.'
'You could go on,' said Stilt. 'And you probably will. How old is he?'
The mask fled the Elf's burnt face. His blue eyes glittered like mountain lakes on a charred plateau. He sang the words: 'Thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands!'
'What's wrong with him?' asked Philippe. 'He has never been like this.'
'He's lonely,' said Sylvia. 'Terribly lonely. All his friends are dead. He's going to dream of his door and visit them in his memories. It's a dangerous trip and he may not come back.' She chewed her lips. She looked down at the ground and then she looked up at Stilt. 'Don't ask that last question. Tug at his roots and the world might shake.'

Friday, July 28, 2006

The Yellow Band - Part 3 (alt. title: the Pig can write more than dialogue)

Blazing green lines extended two feet from both gloved hands. The gloves themselves were cracked black leather. He ran forward, lithe and ever so fast. He landed in the middle of the courtyard with a single effortless somersault.
Those blue eyes – blue like water should be – scanned the walls that surrounded him. There were six crossbow wielders and an old Ghi-Nome on a giant ant. He was brandishing a rod with a pyramid at its apex. The Wizard pointed the wand at Chorgil and a purple haze appeared around the Elf’s face.
The crossbows twanged and the butterfly took off. The mask didn’t want to get hit.
Bolts ricocheting from the cobblestones, he ran for the north wall. Just before collision he stabbed the Twin Blades of Grass into the solid rock and jumped on top of the copper hilts. The grass blades flexed under his weight and propelled him into the air like a catapult.
Up in the air, he whirled like a tornado. His eyes glittered as the butterfly settled on the burning remains of his nose.
He held out his hands and sang as he began to fall. The Twin Blades of Grass thrummed within their rocky prison and snapped free. They trailed burning emerald light as they spun through the air. Chorgil’s hands grasped them just as he landed on the ant’s back, next to the Wizard.

The crossbow-wielder’s head – the upper half - fell off. The Dwarf grabbed the pink-splattered half-orb from the ground and tossed it to the one which was engaged in the act of firing.
The Ghi-Nome fired and his bolt slammed into the cleaved skull fragment, punching a hole clean through. The bolt hit Vechus’s helmet with a violent clanging sound.
Vechus rushed in and dove forward, aiming at the enemy’s toes. He cut them off from the left foot.
The Ghi-Nome fell on top of the Dwarf and screamed. Frothing bubbles appeared around his lips and then he was silent.
Vechus rose. He shed the corpse like a leaf sheds a solitary raindrop. He picked up the shattered half-skull by the crossbow bolt and held it high with his free hand.
The Dwarf walked into the enemy camp, wielding his burden, wearing that horrible, toothy grin.

Sylvia cut his throat and smiled at the next one in line.
‘I love you,’ panted the little fellow with bright yellow eyes. ‘I love you!’
Sylvia cut his throat and smiled at the next one in line.

Hissssss….
Hissssss….
Hissssss….
Hissssss….
Hissssss….
Hissssss….
The sounds of frantic conversation behind the battlement and the results…
‘Now that’s just completely unfair,’ said Stilt. ‘You’re all coming at me with those silly helmets backwards. It is true that I can’t see your eyes… But you’re all completely blind, I hope your realize this.’
‘Oh, hello Vechus. How is it going? Your gigantic poison axe looks exceptionally fine in the morning sunshine.’
The sounds of frantic repositioning of helmets, blinking…
Hissssss….
Hissssss….
Hissssss….

Philippe went after the Wonton mercenaries. He had to occupy them to keep Sylvia safe.
They were enormous, close to 7 feet tall, clad from head to toe in blue Trommergis steel. They used axes and cleavers that made Vechus’s toy look like… a toy. With all that blue steel they even gave Chorgil trouble.
There were nine of them, a full platoon. They had a berserker with them. The naked man carried a huge quarterstaff with a small forest of steel chains and led balls swinging at the end.
The Berserker roared and swung the enormous flail. A chain came off and flew over the wall. The rest of the Wontons hefted their polearms. They said nothing. They were professionals. Wontons who made it out were all mercenaries. It was their only way out.
Philippe drew a black rapier. It looked like it had a brittle cast iron blade.
‘Well, boys,’ he said. ‘This is a Gaevit Luitra. You may have heard of this one. I don’t talk when I fight, but you deserve to know what’s about to happen to you.’
The Berserker broke into a shambling run. The rest of the Wontons closed in on him, neutral, workmanlike, calm.
‘All right then,’ said Philippe and leveled the rapier like some conductor’s baton. ‘Say hello to FlameBender.’

Thursday, July 20, 2006

The Yellow Band - Part 2

‘Well, that was educational.’ Stilt picked up a mushroom from the floor of the dank dungeon. ‘You think this is edible?’
Vechus nodded. ‘Could be poisonous though.’ He brightened. ‘If you die I will use it on my battle-axe.’
‘I suspect we failed in our mission,’ said Philippe. ‘I mean, they didn’t leave. They haven’t entered yet though.’
‘Who’s going to pay us?’ asked Sylvia. ‘No offense people, but the CITY can’t pay us. Architecture alone can’t… I mean, it requires some inhabitant to give us money. The inhabitants are all dead…’
‘You killed them,’ interrupted Stilt. He wore a helpful smile.
‘…and we can’t just take our fee from the houses. That would be robbery. And I had help. You killed some; I distinctly recall a few dozen that had white arrows sticking out of their eye sockets.’
Chorgil closed his eyes and very slowly let his hands fall to the side. First his feet and then his toes lifted from the ground until he hovered in a comfortable 45 degree position. ‘I heard of a new fruit called Bananas,’ he whispered.
‘They attacked me. It was self defense. That doesn’t count.’
‘Won’t they sense you hovering down here?’ asked Philippe. ‘Ghi-Nome have wizards.’
‘No,’ said Sylvia. ‘He is not using magic. He is just unaffected by the pull of the ground. When he forgets it’s there.’*
Chorgil fell on the ground. He just lay there. He opened his eyes. ‘Bananas,’ he said with a voice like crystal chimes hitting a wall. ‘Bananas.’
‘Anyway, Ghi-Nome wizards are not like me. They’re strictly line-of-sight.’
‘So if you were invisible…’
‘No. I would still be line-of-sight. They just couldn’t see me.’
‘We just got down here,’ said Stilt. ‘Let’s settle down. Let’s figure out what exactly we should do.’

* yeah I know this resembles a certain concept that was published by a certain someone. Douglas Adams' estate can sue me for money I do not have.

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Yellow Band - Part 1

Vechus slammed the head of the monkey against the rock. It exploded. It was a grey-pink eruption. ‘Now we have lunch,’ he said. He held the limp body with a single gauntleted hand like he just won some kind of a prize.
Sylvia frowned. ‘You killed a sentient being. I don’t eat meat with reasoning powers.’
‘So? And since when are monkeys sentient?’
‘That was a Ghi-Nome, not a monkey. They’re about three feet tall and they wear furs. It was just wearing the Ghi-Nome monkey-suit.’
‘That’s a mistake it won’t make again,’ said Stilt. ‘I will go hunt up some tasty rats in a few minutes. We will have plenty of non-sentient meat for dinner.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’ asked Vechus. ‘It looks fine to me. Not too fatty.’
‘The closer something is to a human,’ said Sylvia, ‘the more likely you’ll catch disease from it. That’s why a human is relatively safe from catching disease from something like wheat but pretty likely to get sick from a sick cow or pig.’
‘Or a Ghi-Nome,’ said Stilt.
She just nodded.
‘Whatever,’ spat Vechus. ‘We’re in the middle of the Thruuva, we’re cut off and we’re surrounded by a fuckload of monkeys.’
‘Ghi-Nome,’ said Sylvia.
‘And we’re running out of poison. What am I gonna dip my battle axe in?’
‘Overkill,’ frowned Sylvia. ‘What’s the point?’
Chorgil landed in between them with a spinning summersault. The charcoal black butterfly mask came off the burned ruin that was his face. It fluttered in the air for a brief moment before it resumed its customary position.
‘Intimidation,’ said the Elf. ‘Nothing in their right mind fights Vechus.’
‘You fight him all the time,’ said Philippe.
‘He’s crazy,’ said Stilt. ‘The Dwarf does make a point though. We’ll have to start eating monkeys or Ghi-Nome or each other unless we break out.’
‘Sylvia could make them think we surrendered or something,’ said Stilt. ‘Or make the leader fall in love with her. Or fry them all with fireballs. For that matter, Chorgil could go outside and kill them one by one in a couple of weeks.’
‘Do you know how dangerous that is?’ asked Sylvia. ‘There are Wonton mercenaries in that camp. All I need is for one of them to come close while I’m casting a charm and it will rebound on me like a cut bowstring. Fuck THAT.’
Stilt faced Chorgil. ‘How about you then, Butterfly Boy?’
‘They’re expecting me. I’m expecting them. Here I have the advantage. They have some traps laid for me in that camp. I can sense them. Anyway, I’ve done this before. It would bore me.’
‘So if we break out,’ said Vechus. ‘Then what? We’re in the center of the Thruuva. It’s all bugs and humidity and jungle and disease for five hundred miles in all directions. Can we break out with enough supplies to make it? There are antriders between here and Mirm. Shit, there are antriders between here and Zendivett.’
‘Don’t think like they do,’ said Sylvia. She gestured towards the huddled mass of defenders in the courtyard. Most of them were moaning. The wounds drew a veritable cloud of insects. ‘Think like he does.’ She motioned towards Chorgil.
‘There is a good idea,’ said Vechus. ‘Let’s think like an insane Elf. There is teamwork for you. All right then. I will give it a try.
The Dwarf furrowed his eyebrows. ‘We kill everybody here and toss the heads over the walls,’ he said. ‘Burn strangeass runes into the foreheads. Lots of wriggly lines. We prop up the headless bodies on the walls with spears or something… In the morning the bastards wake up and they see this pile of fresh heads and a totally quiet city that’s manned by headless corpses. They freak and leave.’
For a moment there was complete silence.
Chorgil broke it. ‘That’s actually something I’d never done,’ he admitted with obvious reluctance. ‘I’m in.’
‘Wait,’ said Philippe. ‘We were hired to defend the city.’
‘Right,’ agreed Chorgil. ‘The CITY.’

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Frustrated Rage - Part II




















I can't bear to look at my stolen bike's picture every time I look at this blog so I am going to bless everyone with another Danielle Riley picture... I mean, the picture of the girl that Sylvia poisoned... You know... That way every time I look at this blog I will be happy instead of just wanting to smash my head through the drywall.

Frustrated Rage


Some fuckwad stole my bike last night.
Ok, so I shouldn't have left it outside no matter how thick that stupid lock was.
Maybe the asshole shouldn't have stolen it, though.
I can't afford to replace it and I don't like to walk when I can ride.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Translating Hungarian Legalese - Subtitle: I can see God ordering another flood

a) a tisztességtelen piaci magatartás és a versenykorlátozás tilalmáról szóló 1996. évi LVII. törvény 11. §-a (2) bekezdésének e) pontjával kapcsolatban – öt évnél nem régebben meghozott – jogerős és végrehajtható verseny-felügyeleti határozatban vagy a verseny-felügyeleti határozat bírósági felülvizsgálata esetén a bíróság jogerős és végrehajtható határozatában megállapított jogszabálysértést nem követett el; illetőleg az ajánlattevő ilyen jogszabálysértését más versenyhatóság vagy bíróság –öt évnél nem régebben – jogerősen nem állapított meg;

The word by word translation of this gem is as follows:

a) the dishonorable market behavior and the limitoncompetition prohibitionabout concerning 1996. year LVII. law 11. par. a (2) paragraph e) pointwith inconnection - five yearsof not older brought - binding and executable competition-supervisory indecree or the competition-supervisory court inspection incase the court binding and executable indecree determined lawandregulationviolation not committed; and/or/regarding the bidmaker such law/regulationviolationthereof other competitionauthority or court - five years not older - bindingly not determined;

I am NOT kidding.
I love this language.

Monday, July 10, 2006

I am pissed off so...


..it's time for Vechus to make an appearance. Vechus is a Dwarf. He is another founding member of the Yellow Band and he doesn't fuck around.

The picture is pretty much on the money except for the lack of a beard. The personality is similar - except that Vechus has a lot more morose rage. Also, Vechus uses a battle axe. Other than that it's a perfect facsimile.

Sunday, July 02, 2006

It's a Bug's Life



I took my guests from the US (John and Wyn) to Tihany, this really picturesque peninsula at Lake Balaton.

It was hot as hell. Uhm, 31 degrees IS hot as hell. Just sayin'.
Anyway, we're at the beach and this ENORMOUS BUG starts coming towards Wyn who starts freaking out.

'What the hell is THAT?'
'It's the largest insect in Europe. It's a stag beetle.'
'Holy shit!' (the thing has gigantic horns and it's over two inches long. It's moving forward with a lurching gait and it has this strange sense of purpose.) 'Oh good, it's moved past us.'


Thing comes to a screeching halt and begins to stalk Wyn.

'Oh shit.'

Somewhere in its brain (I know bugs have small ones) it came to a decision and started to lurch directly towards Wyn who began to consider flight.
Again, it changed its mind and turned away. It now moved DIRECTLY towards the bag of a sunbathing woman in her fifties. I WISH I had a camera.
It crawled up the bag and disappeared inside.

John: 'OH MY GOD. THERE WILL BE SCREAMING WHEN SHE GETS HOME.'
Wyn: 'You guys are so mean. We should tell her.'
Pig: 'You're right, we should.'
SILENCE.
John: God, it's gonna be funny.

Sylvia


'Sweet mother of the Sea Hag! Is that Sylvia?'
'Not exactly. It's the last girl Sylvia poisoned for looking good.'
'Oh...'
'There are similarities.' Vechus stared at an apple, suspicious, before shrugging and biting into it.
'Like?'
'Hair color. Eye color. Skin color.'
'Breast size?'
'Not even close. Those are 34DDDs. I suppose Sylvia is closer to a C-cup.'
'So what's she like?'
'She is the Red Sorceress. She always wears a red dress. She is intelligent, pragmatic, jelaous, sort of a force-of-nature in sensible heels. She's a co-founder of the Yellow Band, along with me and the blue bastard I spoke about earlier. Her defining characteristics are intelligence and envy.'
'That sounds like a barrel of fun.'
'She can also make you THINK that she looks like her.' (Vechus points at the picture)