thought for eternity:
there is always some madness in love

yet there is also always some reason in madness

links post
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I hate perfume and so does this perfumer. I'm wearing sandalwood oil at the moment, but once I bother to get some money that I can spend on the internets, I'll be definitely buying some stuff here.

Also, I should go get some glossy paper and do some of these.

und
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I have been reading about command. Strategic, operational, and tactical command, you know the sort of thing. Anyway, I have decided that Swarming (military) may be the best article on Wikipedia for the following two lines:

Swarming does not require good military intelligence alone, but intelligent soldiers who can manage multiple information streams and keep situational awareness. It is not advisable to have a soldier so engrossed in displays that an enemy can sneak up and hit him over the head with a rock. One of the challenges of designing modern networked systems is not to overwhelm the users with information...
LOL. Seriously though, it's a valid concern. From personal experience, it's not an uncommon occurence to get shot to shit while checking your map or adjusting your settings in an online FPS - as real combat becomes more "online", the analogy becomes closer.

In the 1980s, the Soviets developed an Operational Maneuver Group (OMG) for a fast armored thrust deep into NATO defences east of the Rhine River. An OMG was expected to exploit strategic surprise with a force equal or greater than an armored division, featuring up to 700 tanks, 500 IFVs, and a substantial number of helicopters.

the scene: a war room deep in a BUNKER somewhere in europe. several GENERALs stand around a table covered in maps.
the door flies open. a young TECHnician runs in from Signals Intelligence wearing grey camo.
GENERALS look up in "general" surprise.

TECH: OMG GUYS!
GENERAL #1: What?
GENERAL #2: OMG?!
TECH: Yes! OMG!
GENERAL #1: Explain, soldier!
GENERAL #2: OMG, General #1!
GENERAL #1: OMG, WTF?
GENERAL #2: O M G. THE RUSSIANS ARE ATTACKING, OMG.
GENERAL #1: OMG Russians?!
TECH: Yes! FFS
GENERAL #1: OMG!
GENERAL #2: STFU DIAF.
RUSSIANS call the BUNKER, face appears on wall ala Zero Wing
RUSSIANS: AYBABTU. YHBT YHL. HAND
GENERAL #1: OMFG.
GENERAL #2: In Soviet Russia...

I guess that's the strategic surprise they're exploiting, then.

(no subject)
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So, the mood still playful, she drops down in front of you, both of you naked, and starts playing with the area around your crotch with her lips and tongue in ways that make you twitch and shiver all over.

She runs her tongue up the inside of your thigh, and before you have time to gasp she has taken one of your testicles into her mouth. She stops like that, moving it from on her tongue to the side of her mouth, between her molars, and she looks up at you.

Her eyes are so innocent.

The pressure against your testicle isn't quite enough to bring on that sick sensation that results from injuries there, but it's certainly not comfortable. She sits there and looks up at you and, despite the fact that her mouth is occupied both as a container and in terms of action, you are sure she's trying to grin.

The pressure, of course, is growing.

You don't react. You gently reach down and your hands stroke her cheeks, tuck an escaping tendril of hair behind her ear. Your fingers lock in behind and under her jaw, and ever so slowly you raise the angle of her head so that you can look into her face more easily.

Like you, she doesn't react. The pressure is still growing, and she hasn't lost eye contact with you.

You move your thumbs from her cheeks to place them hovering above her cheekbones. Just in front and slightly below the eyeball, she can't fail to understand the implication as your fingers gently maintain the lock without discomfort.

The pressure stays constant as you look into one another's eyes.

Her teeth hold your testicle. Your thumbs are cocked, ready to crush her wonderful eyes in their sockets. And you both know that the other won't flinch from crippling you if you dare look away.

A smile slowly spreads across your face gently, like flames moving over a sheet of paper. It's not your hands on her face, it's not her teeth around your testicle, it's your eyes that are locked together and prevent you moving.

In one fluid movement, as though it had been choreographed and rehearsed a thousand times, she lets you go and stands up, her hands wrapping behind your back to hold your head as your thumbs drop and your fingers run through her hair.

You stand like that for maybe a second, slight smiles and your hands in each others' hair.

"I lo-", she starts to say, before you kiss her to shut her up.

Don't say it, you think, don't ever say it. Saying it makes it die.

She understands.

(no subject)
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"So I think we need a new plan. Next time a country wants to take us on, 'stead of sending bombs, let's try this: send everyone in the country a color television and a satellite dish. And give 'em the basic package, not HBO — screw those people. And before the war starts, we make them all sit down. "Okay, we'll go to war with you. You want a piece of us, fine, fine. Before we go, I want you guys to understand us a little better, so you have to sit down and watch ESPN2 for 24 hours. 'Cause you watch ESPN2 for a full day, you're gonna understand America a lot better. 'Hi, we're America! We build monster trucks for fun! We developed the top fuel dragster, zero to three hundred thirty miles an hour in under five seconds, cause, pfft, we were bored. Piss us off, heh, and see what we build! And we may feel bad about it later! Ask Japan. But before we feel bad... we're gonna jack you up! And then we're gonna send you FOOD! 'Cause we're America; we're schizophrenic. Don't mess with a nation that needs medication!'" --Christopher Titus, via jaded110

let's hurt someone
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while death may be boring and torture makes you feel sick, fighting brings you to life.

is it the screaming that makes you feel sick, or the loneliness you feel at your apathy towards it?

negation
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there is nothing that means that it is justified. unfortunately, you will find that the pointlessness of the entire situation in no way negates the seriousness of it.

the worst thing about killing someone is the fact that there is no great dramatic moment, no defiant last words.

the second worst thing about killing someone is that the body doesn't fade into the ground or burn itself away. it just lies there, a vehicle without a driver, all of its usual maintainance tasks neglected.

and that bit, the bit where there is a piece of meat that used to be a man, gives you a terrible new perspective - because it doesn't really seem that different from the carcass of a slaughtered animal, and if this was once alive, once meant something, what of those carcasses?

you look at the body and there is no difference between it and the body of a deer - and you feel guilty for not being overcome with guilt. for you feel that you should be affected by the fact that this one was the same as you - but it wasn't, not really, and your conversations with the animals that wear clothes aren't any more significant than when you talk to your cat.

here you are then, you are a murderer. and to think you expected to be justified. to think you expected a great light to come down out of the clouds. to be crucified, to be vilified, to be worshipped. to find enlightenment in this most taboo of acts.

but it is nothing, the act as empty as your soul.

just a body.

now that you've killed him, who are you going to talk to now?

lol @ slate (http://www.slate.com/id/2213480)
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It's all gone completely out of hand. First we had the Obama administration last week releasing a pile of super-top-secret memos in which it was suggested that the president could ignore any of the odd-numbered amendments (like the First) and also ignore the even-numbered ones (like the Fourth) if the Bill of Rights ever got in the way of his war on terror. The legal analysis therein was so bad, the memos actually came with an official apology for their own badness. Days later, there was John Yoo, formerly of the Office of Legal Counsel and principal author of these memos, arguing forcefully in the pages of the Wall Street Journal that if President Barack Obama adheres to the rule of law in the war against terror, he'll be caught blinking stupidly into the middle distance as terror plots unfold. Indeed, Yoo went so far as to warn the new president that "risk aversion" should probably not guide his anti-terror strategy, as though Obama perhaps plans to fight al-Qaida by hiding under various antique coffee tables.

(no subject)
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It has been reported that some victims of rape, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not wake up. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren’t being raped. The only way that they realized they needed to wake up was a note they found in their fantasy world. It would tell them about their condition, and tell them to wake up. Even then, it would often take months until they were ready to discard their fantasy world and please wake up.

xposted to the other journal.

lol, NYT
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"…Mr. Joy said a prosecutor, Nicholas Marsh, concocted the scheme to send Mr. Williams away after prosecutors held a mock cross-examination in which he did not perform well.

Still, there is considerable evidence that Mr. Williams was truly sick, including the fact that he has since died. " – The New York Times

LOL
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…the cafe frequently changes the name of its wireless network to things like:

BuyAnotherCupYouCheapskate

HaveYouTriedCoffeeCake?

BuyaLargeLatterGetBrownieForFree


Source

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