Let those who sre suppose to be representing us that the Stop Online Piracy Act and Protect IP Act aren’t in our best interest.

Zip Code 98072
Zip Code 98125
Zip Code 98195
Zip Code 85295

or visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:CongressLookup?zip=xxxxx, replacing xxxxx with your zip code to find out how to contact your representatives.

So here is to my second post of 2011 and when next I see you, a new year will have dawned.

In other news, Dreamscarred Press (DSP) has released Psionics Unleashed (PU) and I’ve (foolishly) undertaken the task of trying to add as much of the content from the book as possible to the character generator Hero Lab (HL).  While a daunting task, it is refreshing to know that I haven’t forgotten everything I was taught during my brief stint as a computer science major.  My biggest problem right now is that there isn’t a comprehensive enough guide for my taste.  They have a wiki site for the editor and after a lot of searching I was finally able to find much of the information necessary to work more efficiently, but there is still much left to be desired by this (al)chemist when it comes to a comprehensive language/editing guide.

In either case, the people on the Lone Wolf forums are rockstars.  I would especially like to thank Mathias, areteas and risner.  They have been indispensable resources in my attempts to add the Psychic Warrior to HL.  With that said, I have managed to add all of the feats in a mostly functional manner.  With much of the Psionics underpinnings still hidden of inaccessible in HL, they aren’t perfect and contain placeholders for the day when Psionics is more fully supported in the Pathfinder (PF) modules, but for now they are functional enough to allow for some testing, substituting a caster class for manifester classes.

I hope to update the space more frequently this year and I warn you now, the mix will probably be more eclectic than previous years.  Some highlights for this year will most likely include music, apple, Science! and roleplaying games (rpg).  I am still on the fence on which system I prefer.  When I joined my first 4e game, all I could do was complain about how it wasn’t 3.5 and felt so cookie-cutter.  And then I joined a PF game and I found myself missing many aspects of 4e.  For now I think that I will put more effort into enjoying PF, despite the release of 4e Essentials and my recent investment in books for that system.  Now that I have Psionics to play with in PFRPG, we’ll see how far my enjoyment of the system goes.  For now, I just need to focus on not having my DM drop my characters during every battle.

My second problem with DC was in transferring from the Blue line to the Orange line. I was raised to be polite and I have the mistake of listening to the loud voice instructing me to clear the path for people wishing to exit the metro. I did just that and in doing so, I was summarily pushed out of the way of people in more of a hurry than I wanting to enter the train and I nearly lost my bag as the door closed on it as someone shoved me back onto the stand. This trip has made me miss the usually polite demeanor of those I share the Pacific Northwest with. They have their problems, but I’ve never experienced quite this level of rudeness by those wishing to enter an over crowded bus and these are busses that run, at best, every 15 minutes. The metro I was trying to enter was arriving, on average, about every 5 minutes.

Second was the conference itself. I had to take a cab to the site as the shuttle was running late and there wasn’t very good communication with the people on site to wrangle all the individuals waiting on said shuttle. I had my suspicions about a group I saw in the lobby, but I did not want to single them out or assume that they might be the group I was looking for because they fit a certain demographic. A sign, however small, on either the bus or the handler would have easily rectified the situation.

And then I arrive at the site. The individuals at MITRE were top notch. They new where I need to go and promptly took me to the right people. Those people appeared a bit more organized and allowed me to confirm my suspicion on the person I believed to have been the handler. After that, there was little direction. I wasn’t presenting and that left me in a sort of limbo position where they weren’t sure what to do with me. I ended up watching the presentations and came away with some awesome ideas I would like to try to incorporate into my own future presentations, but I was still left with the feeling that the event was lacking in structure and organization. The tour of the center later on in the evening only cemented that idea.

As for the main reason why I wanted to attend, the networking session. It was all but non-existant. There was an open bar area with some food they tried to pass off as a sort of dinner. I had little idea of who was a fellow, administrator or what-have-you. The schedule led me to believe that there was to be a separate, better organized event for current fellows and alumni. I don’t feel as if that was the case. It wasn’t, however, a total loss as I did manage to get some networking in but as many of the administrative types new each other already, it felt more like a get together for old friends to catch-up than an event for new fellows to interact and expand their social networks.

I did not think much of the first episode of Spartacus: Blood and Sand.  It is the tale of a Thracian and his decent into the hell of slavery.  Betrayed by the roman Gaius Claudius Glaber, he saw his life wrongfully wrenched from his hands.  This was not before we were treated to several scenes of battle, both on the field and in the bedroom.  With saturated colors, needlessly slow action sequences and exaggerated bloodshed, the show was off to a rocky start.  But there was promise, if not of a decent story, then at least of weekly glimpses of Lucy Lawless’s voluptuous breast (or Andy Whitfield’s, along with many other’s, delectable derrières).

So I continued to watch, as the Thracian defied execution and found himself in the ludus of Lentulus Batiatus (as portrayed by John Hannah).  If not for Lentulus Batiatus and his desire to rise above his station, I fear the show wouldn’t have held much promise.  For lost in the midst of bare asses and breast was a glorious tale of political intrigue and posturing to make even the oldest of Ventrue² quiver in delight.

Down on his luck and straddled with debt, Batiatus hoped that Spartacus would bring wealth and fame back to his fading ludus, as well as the opportunity to gain favor with those who might help to elevate him.  As things often go, the plans of fair Batiatus did not proceed as planned, landing him near bankrupt after a failed plan in the pits ended up with Spartacus defeating his foe to save Batiatus from unseen assailants.  At this point, the story really begins as this attempt on his life, by slaves no less, enrages Batiatus to the point of action.  It is at this point that we also begin to learn the true nature of Ashur, a former gladiator crippled in the arena by Crixus.

Death in the arena, as Spartacus rises to fame is accompanied by numerous deaths outside the arena as those who had wronged Batiatus meet their ends.  Spartacus rises to fame, becoming the hero of Capua, after he defeats the Shadow of Death, Theocoles and with it, ending the draught that had plagued the city by bringing the rains with the giants blood.  The former champion, Crixus, who fought alongside Spartacus in the battle is wounded to the point where many question whether or not he’ll survive or ever see a return to the arena.  For those familiar with the story, you already know the outcome as Crixus played a major role in the Third Servile War³.

But I digress, as the true hero of the series is not Spartacus, but Batiatus.  To tame the wild Thracian and gain his obedience, Batiatus makes good on his promise to reunite Spartacus with his wife.  In a most dramatic scene, the cart carrying Sura arrives and Spartacus begins to set-forth his plan to flee to freedom with his wife, but his actions are halted when he notices the blood on the cart driver and the sad condition of the cart.  He also begins to question his chances of success when the Doctore appears despite having been drugged the night prior by Spartacus to avoid such a showing.

As expected, the cart was attacked, Sura is dead and with her last words, she whispers something along the lines of “Kill ‘em all”.  Batiatus later confronts his wife on the matter –as she was none-to-pleased to learn of the reunion of the Thracian dog with his bitch – stating that he fulfilled his end of the bargain.  He never promised Spartacus that she would be alive or live long past said reunion, but proving to be a man of his word he gained the trust and loyalty of Spartacus.  For the viewer, the lesson to be learned here is that a carefully worded desire or wish should always be first and foremost at the forefront of one’s mind when negotiating, especially with those who have aspirations to political office.

Following this, we are treated to more bloodshed as Spartacus brings fame and fortune to the ludus, helping to restore it to its prior glory.  Ashur sees to the removal of Barca, a fellow gladiator he owed a substantial sum of money after he bet that Spartacus would defeat Theocoles.

It was more political wrangling, beautifully played as individuals where manipulated on several fronts.  If also helped that Ashur overheard Barca tell his lover, Pietros, that he had disobeyed an order from Batiatus to end a young boys life.  We later learn that Barca had indeed followed orders and had only told Pietros what he did to spare his feelings, but the damage had already been done.  More blood and death and boobs, followed by forced sodomy, brutality and suicide.  Enrage, Spartacus sends a fellow gladiator over a cliff and is berated for ending a brother’s life for a mere slave.  For those not keeping score, they were all slaves but the gladiators felt themselves above the common slaves because they earned honor and coin for the house.

Other fights occur, Ashur gains the trust (and coins) of Solonius, the hated rival of Batiatus, and Ilithyia (wife of Glaber) attempts to end the Thracian’s life who so embarrassed her husband with a gladiator she purchased from Batiatus.  The gentleman, described as having a horse cock, is stopped and ends up loosing said third leg and life.  Ilithyia, in the process, is embarrassed and things go from bad to worse as she is tricked into bedding the hated Thracian and the act revealed to one of the notable ladies of Rome who had appeared for the same task.  This, all because Lucretia (Lucy Lawless) felt her honor besmirched when Ilithyia insinuated that they shared a common interest in wanting to lie with Crixus.  Said notable woman ends up dead, planting Ilithyia and, by extension, Glaber firmly in the hands of House Batiatus.

Moving ahead a bit, Lord Raul Gaius Claudius Glaber appears in the lawless lands of Capua, a land where the magistrate was found dead at the hands of Solonius (as arranged by Batiatus with the help of Ashur) and the cousin of a notable roman has gone missing.  Thinking to rid herself of the filth of Capua, Ilithyia miscalculates the ruthlessness of House Batiatus when the deigns to beseech her husband to give his patronage in support of Batiatus.  The appearance of a missing cousins hand quickly sways Glaber’s mind after it is suggested that said dead cousin my mysteriously appear at his villa.  Poor Ilithyia is left in Capua, her actions and words governed by Lucretia as they make plans to announce their newfound status.

But it would seem that Ilithyia will end up with the last laugh as she is the only one likely to make it into the next season of Spartacus: Blood and Sand as all the others where slain when Spartacus led his fellow gladiators in an uprising to slaughter the man who took his wife.  Of course, there was a nice speech about freemen and changing Rome or some such, and with it went my hopes for more intrigue in the next season of Spartacus.  I fear that without the actions of House Batiatus in their attempts to gain elevated status, the shaw shall become nothing more than bear breast, cocks and unbridled sex as Crixus seeks his love, Naevia, and Ilithyia fucks her way back to favor.

1. Emmanuelle: The main character in a series of delightful French soft-core erotic movies based on the novel Emmanuelle (1959) by Emmanuelle Arsan.
2. Ventrue: A clan of self-important vampires from the game Vampire: The Masquerade
3. Third Servile War: was the last of a series of unrelated and unsuccessful slave rebellions against the Roman Republic, known collectively as the Roman Servile Wars

A good thing, too, as I’ll be getting a student to mentor for the summer and possibly more in the fall.  It is an experience that I’m looking forward to.  One of the things that I need to work on during these next four years are my managerial skills so the sooner I get my minions, the better.  If I can find one enamored with organic synthesis, all the better, as I might be able to place all of that work on them, following some training.  Which means that I will have to learn more organic synthesis than I currently do.  That is something I’m not looking forward to, but I am stoked about the Steglich Esterification I’ll be doing next week.  If all goes well, I’ll get my desired ester using a much simpler, and much more to my like, process than the two other proposed ways.

On a side note, I have a couch bum.  I refer to him as a bum only because they have spent nearly the last month complaining about having no job while doing little (that I’ve been able to witness) to remedy the situation.  Even a temporary outage of our internet connection wasn’t enough to get them out of the house and away from the slavebox.  They simply changed to playing a game that was equally as fun on single-player mode as they multiplayer games they are now back to playing.  What amazes me is that I stopped rooming with said individual over two years ago because of similar behavior.  To think, well over two years later and there has been absolutely no growth at all.  It really saddens me.

That is how I stumbled across Charlese, a British vocalist wishing to make a name for herself.  The composition was simple, her vocals accompanied by an acoustic guitar played by Matthew Shaw.  It wasn’t overworked or over done and I admit that I found it more engaging than the version by Mr. Bublé.  Charlese has a deep, throaty sorta sensual sound that easily lends itself to a smokey (or not so smokey, given the times) jazz club in a hole-in-the-wall dive that everyone visits to hear the best music in town.  If you don’t believe me, visit charlese.co.uk for yourself and give her a listen.

She includes two original tracks – written by Mr. Shaw – for your listening enjoyment with a number of covers.  My personal favorite was the mix of Play and Ain’t No Sunshine.  It has a uptempo bossa nova beat (to the best of my musical knowledge) and breathes new life into an old song from Jennifer Lopez that would otherwise have remained in obscurity for me.  Perhaps had Ms. Lopez put a little more South American flavor into the song, instead of the think dance-pop top 40 track she went for, it might have been more memorable.

The only thing that I will fault Charlese on is that I believe the mixing of the tracks could have been a little better.  The mixdown volume is too high.  I understand that in this age of digital music, it is common for sound engineers to up the volume to ensure decent performance on portable media players, but it is a practice I don’t much care for one leads to clipping (in the case of the tracks Charlese encourages you to download) when played at full volume on my MBP.  This is not something that I experience with other tracks from either signed acts or independents (like David Choi) on the same system.

When you’re down and troubled
You don’t tell you friends
You don’t tell your family
I won’t let them talk about me
I’m gonna let nobody down

It is as if, at that moment, we are both living our lives not for ourselves, but because we feel obligated to do so out of loyalty to our friends and family.  We endure the pain, put on our mask and play the role that is expected of us so as to keep others from talking about us.  As if we know that the talk won’t bring help, but only more pain and ridicule for being being weak or broken or just not right in the head.  We have given over to altruism, leading a painful and thankless existence so that others may continue theirs unburdened.  ”I’m gonna let nobody down,” except for myself.

But in the end it is worth it as you don’t force others to question if they did all that they could have.  You don’t force them to doubt their actions, to wonder what more they could have done.

London in the low tide of the night
And not a taxi cab in sight.
Anesthetized I start the journey home.
I’ve been living months alone.
I’ve been avoiding things -
the phone rings,
I use the answerphone.

Inside out in the daytime,
Outside in in the night time.
Inside out in the daytime,
Outside in in the night time.

When you’re down and troubled
You don’t tell your friends,
You don’t tell your family.
I won’t let them talk about me.
I’m gonna let nobody down.

Soho in the high tide of the day
And for a while I’m swept away -
I just forget it.
I use my walkman when I walk,
And I don’t talk,
But later on the moment’s gone and I don’t get it.

Inside out in the daytime,
Outside in in the night time.
Inside out in the daytime,
Wrong at the right time.

When you’re down and troubled
You don’t tell your friends,
You don’t tell your family.
I won’t let them talk about me.
I’m gonna let nobody down.

Who shall I be tonight?
Who’s gonna see tonight?
Who shall I be tonight?

Inside out in the daytime,
Wrong at the right time.
I wanna know I’m good for you.
Outside in in the night time,
Right at the wrong time.
I wanna know I’m good to you.

When you’re down and troubled
You don’t tell your friends,
You don’t tell your family.
I won’t let them talk about me.
I’m gonna let nobody down.

No, no, no, no
I won’t let them talk about me.
I’m gonna let nobody down down down down.

I can admit things such as displeasure with Seattle.  It has nothing to do with the city itself, but rather the situation I find myself in.  I can admit my increased dependence on old friends such as Jack and Morgan or new friends such as Spire, Strongbow and Crispin.  There is little fear of reprisal or having to assuage too many hurt feelings or distraught thoughts over my well being.  There are a few that may stumble upon my ramblings here from time to time, but hopefully they know me well enough that any information here shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise.  If it does, then perhaps the channels of communication aren’t as open as they should be.  Or it could be that they do as I and try to ignore those things that induce uncomfortable feelings.

So what is a person, suffering from bipolar disorder, to do in such a situation.  I could turn to random strangers – by way of craigslist – to fill the void, as I’ve had no success making any real connections with my peers.  Or I could turn to the bottle and reacquaint myself with my friends Daniels and Morgan, loosing myself in research and other unmentionables.  It isn’t a very satisfying existence, but in the absence of anyone to talk to or connect with, we have to make due with what we have.  And I figured I should do so while I can before I decide to return to the medications that I’ve not felt I needed until I found myself revisiting dark places better left forgotten.