Aide-mémoire

"Between the Dog and the Wolf" - the fanbook!

axmxz — Thu, 09 May 2024 22:19:03 GMT

Look what just came in the mail!

So, about fifteen years ago, I finished a novel-length Les Miserables fanfic.

About two years ago, a group of fans asked my permission to translate it into Chinese.

And today I got my author's copies and ephemera from the paperback English version (which we also sold).

Look how pretty they turned out! So many amazing artists put so much effort into it... they even made pins, postcards and bookmarks!

Waiting for the Barbarians

axmxz — Sun, 28 Jan 2024 16:24:11 GMT

by Constantine P. Cavafy

An attempt at translation.

The only English translation I could find is by Edmund Keeley, and for
some reason it ignores the Medieval 15-syllable "political verse"/folk song meter of the call and the Early Modern 12-syllable meter of the response. In fact, it ignores meter altogether, so far as I can tell:

What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
The barbarians are due here today.
Why isn’t anything happening in the senate?
Why do the senators sit there without legislating?
Because the barbarians are coming today.
What laws can the senators make now?
Once the barbarians are here, they’ll do the legislating.
Why did our emperor get up so early,
and why is he sitting at the city’s main gate
on his throne, in state, wearing the crown?
Because the barbarians are coming today
and the emperor is waiting to receive their leader.
He has even prepared a scroll to give him,
replete with titles, with imposing names.
Why have our two consuls and praetors come out today
wearing their embroidered, their scarlet togas?
Why have they put on bracelets with so many amethysts,
and rings sparkling with magnificent emeralds?
Why are they carrying elegant canes
beautifully worked in silver and gold?
Because the barbarians are coming today
and things like that dazzle the barbarians
Why don’t our distinguished orators come forward as usual
to make their speeches, say what they have to say?
Because the barbarians are coming today
and they’re bored by rhetoric and public speaking.
Why this sudden restlessness, this confusion?
(How serious people’s faces have become.)
Why are the streets and squares emptying so rapidly,
everyone going home so lost in thought?
Because night has fallen and the barbarians have not come.
And some who have just returned from the border say
there are no barbarians any longer.
And now, what’s going to happen to us without barbarians?
They were, those people, a kind of solution.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I don't care for Keeley's translation, so I wrote my own,
using his version, Google translate, and a few Russian versions, all
of which are perverse in their own ways.

Cavafy, aka. Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis used 15 syllables for call and 12 for response. I kept it to 13 syllables for call and 12 for response.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

—What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
Today the city falls to the Barbarians.
—The clerks and lawmakers sit idle in the Senate
Why aren't the Senators at work on legislation?
Because the city falls to the Barbarians
What point and purpose is there now to ordinance?
Barbarians bring their own barbaric law codes.
—Why did our Emperor arise at dawn this morning?
Why sits he by the main gate of the city,
Enthroned, becrowned, as for a state occasion?
Because the city falls to the Barbarians.
The emperor expects to meet their leader.
He has prepared for him a solemn offering:
A scroll with decorous names and stately titles.
—Why are our praetors here? And why the consuls?
All dressed so fancy, in embroidered scarlet togas,
Their arms adorned with rings and costly bracelets
Festooned with amethysts and emeralds galore?
They lean on staves ornate with gold and silver -
What is the point of this flamboyant opulence?
Because the city falls to the Barbarians,
And such extravagances charm and dazzle them.
—Why don’t we see our many honored orators
Come forth to make their best long-winded speeches?
Because the city falls to the Barbarians,
And the Barbarians are bored by rhetoric.
—Why is the crowd becoming lost and restless,
Their faces growing grimmer by the minute?
The streets and squares now stand completely empty,
As everyone departs for home in worry?
Because they haven't shown, and night is falling.
And runners have arrived from distant borders,
With dreadful news: there are no more Barbarians.
What will become of us, if there are no Barbarians?
They were, if nothing else, a sort of answer.

"Between the Dog and the Wolf" — now in Chinese

axmxz — Thu, 26 Oct 2023 18:17:24 GMT

Many moons ago, I wrote a Les Miserables longfic called "Between the Dog and the Wolf", as some of you might recall. It was fandom-famous for a long time, mostly because the fandom was small, and longfics were almost non-existent. Once the 2012 movie came out, it quickly drowned in an avalanche of longfics, and I forgot all about it.

A couple of years ago, a fan asked me for permission to make a Chinese translation. We spent many months ironing out various turns of phrase and meanings, and it was great fun. They also asked if they could translate the other short fics in my "You Know Nothing of Javert" series, and whether I could write them a small foreword.

Today I saw a message on Tumblr from several days ago. The translator said the work was finished, and I should get a copy in the mail by December.

And they attached screenshots.

Anyway, I'm looking at these pictures, and I'm wondering: these people spent an insane amount of their own time, talent, and money to turn my longfic into an objet d'art. Maybe I should try selling a novel to an actual publisher...

relatable content

axmxz — Sun, 01 Oct 2023 01:38:26 GMT

Hello?... o-oh...oh...oh...

axmxz — Wed, 27 Sep 2023 04:20:35 GMT

Can't believe it's been seven years since I last posted here.

Behold my latest fanfic obsession: the current President of Ukraine (and his friends).

So now they all get to be in my new longfic, "The Acheloid".

And only about 40,000 words in, I realized that I was basically writing Stephen King's "IT", set in 1980s/2000s Ukraine. Oh well.

More dreams, all forgotten now.

axmxz — Thu, 28 Jan 2016 17:16:40 GMT

Nothing puts my dreaming mechanism into high gear like migraines and migraine meds.

Hannibal fic

axmxz — Mon, 18 Jan 2016 16:42:58 GMT

"At the Farmers' Market."

Crack; Hipster AU.

David Bowie dream, 12/16/16

axmxz — Mon, 18 Jan 2016 16:15:18 GMT

Almost a week after David Bowie's death, I dreamt that he and I were sitting at a table somewhere - a cheap school/college table, like one would have in a library, - and drawing.

Or rather, I'm drawing, and he comes up to help out. The pictures on the paper in front of me look like political cartoons or illustrations to a second-tier children's book. Not my drawing style at all. Also I'm drawing without reference pictures, which I never do. It's no wonder that I'm having trouble with all of them. They are all missing something.

The first picture is a bird, passerine or corvid, facing the viewer, head slightly tilted. Bowie stands behind me and draws two more birds at each side of it, at slightly different angles, in the same style. He's using two color pencils, light grey and bright blue. I'm drawing with a regular pencil.

The second picture is a boy or a young man, kind of resembling Tin-Tin, dot eyes and line smile. For some reason, I can't settle on a hairstyle for him. Bowie boldly completes the line of his hair until it's a large and picturesque do, angles and waves, as if a cubist drew Johnny Bravo.

The third picture is a large wave, or perhaps a tsunami. Bowie draws it, and I begin to cross-hatch rather illogical shadows and contours into it, using dashes and plus signs.

Bowie turns to go. I grab his hand and ask him not to go. He won't stay. I bring his hand to my mouth and drop to the floor. I start crying. He pulls his hand away and leaves.

---------------

This dream puzzles me to no end. I have never had any feelings or opinions on David Bowie. I can't name a single song of his, even after all the tributes and articles that flooded all my social media feeds after his death. "Ground control to Major Tom" is literally the only lyric of his I can recall off the top of my head. I know almost nothing about him. I know he invented a character in the 70s or 80s with a lightning bolt thing on his face; I know he was in a movie about Goblins where the main character was apparently his crotch; and I know he had some kind of eye injury that gave him one permanently dilated pupil or something. Somehow, his actual art completely passed me by. Alan Rickman's passing the same week affected me much more.

Fresh fics!

axmxz — Sun, 05 Apr 2015 03:48:54 GMT

So, in the *mumble* *mumble* years I've been gone, I've gotten into Hannibal.

Here's some Hannibal crack and also an advice column. Oh, and one semi-serious one.

Another oldie but goodie. Find all the dated 2007 memes and win our condolences.

axmxz — Thu, 20 Feb 2014 06:19:03 GMT

Story Or Series Title: Friend with Firestarter
Fandom: The Boy Who Lived ~~For Carnage~~
Culprit Author's Name: sawiuk

Full Name (plus titles if any): Lee, Firestarter. (It’s the new Esq.)
Full Species(es): Firestarter and “purest pureblood.” (It’s also the new Rt. Hon.)
Hair Color (include adjectives): light brown
Eye Color (include adjectives): oscillating between ‘fire filled’ and ‘ordinary brown’.
Unusual Markings/Colorations: Flames (v.) From Every Orifice.
Special Possessions (if any): Flames (n.) From Every Orifice.

Annoying Origin: The sad, lonely mind of an adolescent, possibly homosexual English pyro-boy who desperately wants a hug and a Zippo.
Annoying Connections To Canon Characters: ”bright strings of light meshed together inside both Lee’s and Harry’s souls.”
Annoying Special Abilities: Flames (v. and n.) From Every Orifice.
Other Annoying Traits: Soul-rapes Harry Potter in the park. ~~(With a menorah.)~~

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story:

hortensio: Oy va voy.
axmxz: Yes. Also, WTF.
hortensio: And, may I add, BBQ.
axmxz: We’ll have to begin at the beginning.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters they all belong to Rowling the only character that belongs to me is ordinary boy.

axmxz: Coming to toy stores near you: Ordinary Boy™!
hortensio: “Flames From Every Orifice!”(R)

Chapter 1

Death is so sweet

hortensio: And a little tangy.
axmxz: We skip the first paragraph, because it’s very much like the second, and we have to leave something out.

“For we will execute judgment by fire and by our sword on all flesh, and those slain by us will be many” he repeated happily as he cut deep swirl impressions into the forty odd old man’s chest, who was striped from his top half and tided down into a old wooden table with, what looked to be cheese wire, what ever it was in was cutting deep into his skin, he tried to scream but was gagged, only weak muffled whimpered escaped his mouth.

hortensio: Mmm… hot sweet death with swirls…
axmxz: Like a Cinnabun!

He stopped to wondering if that maybe, he shouldn’t kill his uncle, he closed his eyes and listened hard for the answer
“Just do it,by your sword on all flesh and those slain will be many” his heart told him, and who can ever disagree with their heart.

axmxz: My heart always tells me to eat fewer CinnaBuns. I disagree.

He smiled, stop repeating his song, pick up his knife trailed a long straight over the man sternum, and smiled as he brought it down though him, nailing him deep to the table.

hortensio: The author insists he’s a “16 year old English boy.” By way of refutation, we offer the sentence above.
axmxz: ‘Man sternum’?..
hortensio: Genitives and plurals in particular are not on speaking terms with the author.
axmxz: I want to know what that song is he’s repeating…
hortensio: Oh, you know. “For we will execute judgment by fire and by our sword on all flesh, and those slain by us will be many”... dum dee dee… Rather sticks, doesn’t it?
axmxz: Like a CinnaBun!

“Death” he giggled, his voice high pitched and young, spoken unshaken with no guilt, “is so sweet when it’s brought to the people that deserve it”

axmxz: “His voice high pitched and young, spoken unshaken with no guilt”...?
hortensio: Oh, God, I need a drink.
axmxz: Here, have a martini. Unshaken. With no guilt.

he then looked over to the corpse of his aunt and then looked to his cousin’s, he then looked up from there bodies, to the ordinary boy, so ordinary that he seem to almost disappear into the background, to all but Harry potter, who was now watching him with a smile of mischief.

hortensio: I am reminded of the first trial of Oscar Wilde, when, besieged by the terrier-like persistence of Queensberry’s defense, the genius famously declared: “I have no knowledge of the ordinary individual.”
axmxz: I am reminded of a CinnaBun.
hortensio: Don’t make me hit you so early in the show.

The ordinary boy let out a giggle as he opened his hand, and fire burst forth he lowered his hand letting the fire drop from his hand, and onto the dead and cut up bodies of Petunia and Dudley as well as the boys own abusive family.

axmxz: Did he just wank fire?

The boys eyes were on fire burning red, as they always were when he used his ability
“who thought we’d really be doing this, after only meeting this morning Harry, there must be something pulling the strings for us to meet and to get along so well”

axmxz: Wait, they only met this morning?
hortensio: Must’ve been a match made in Heaven.

Harry’s smile widened as he spoke excitedly “when we’re together Lee I feel so different, like there’s a spark inside me, and when I’m around you it becomes an inferno taking control or something, and I feel like I’m unstoppable”

hortensio: Well, maybe not a match per se… more of a spark lighter.

“I feel the same Harry, I would never have been able, to even think of doing something like this, but when I’m around you my blood burns you free me Harry you fuel the fire inside” said Lee taking Harry’s hand.

hortensio: Surprise ~~buttseks~~ SAT question:

My blood burns. You free me, Harry.
My blood burns you. Free me, Harry!
My blood burns you free. Me Harry, you fuel. The fire? Inside.

As he did, bright strings of light meshed together inside both Lee’s and Harry’s souls, just as they had done this morning, when they had met in the park and shook hand in greeting, and just like this morning they both felt the darkness inside them move, bring them closer together.

axmxz: OMG, their love is so fiber-optic.

The fire turned hotter and blue around them, burning everything to dust, Lee then told Harry still holding his hand “come on we better go before we burn too” he joked, pulling Harry out of the house of Number Four Privet Drive, as it burned to the ground, freeing both boys of both and all their demons, letting them start a new life, one built up on foundations of blood and fire.

hortensio: So, the demons are now gone, but their new love will be built on the foundation of blood and fire?
axmxz: I guess the demons left because they were outclassed by the hosts.

They walk down Privet Drive, hand in hand, both eyes alight with fire, as they killed and destroyed every person in the street they walked down, and they did this until the reached the last house on Privet Drive, Number 35, and with a flick of Lee’s wrist, that house burned as well.

hortensio: Ladies and gentlemen - a musical interlude.
axmxz: *sings*

“Flick of the wrist, and you're dead, baby
Blow him a kiss, and you're mad…”

Harry turned to Lee the smile never leaving his lips “they all could of saved themselves if only they had tried to save us”

hortensio: Ah, see. It makes perfect sense. When good men do nothing, evil triumphs.
axmxz: And then the victim kills the evil, burns down its house, and slaughters all the good men and burns down *their* houses.

--------------------------------------------------------

Rude awakenings, Letters and delicacies for breakfast

Chapter 2

Two years, and forty three murders later

hortensio: Well, haven’t you been busy little bees.

“Harry get up all ready” Lee yelled as he stormed into the room where Harry currently slept, deeply under an overly large amount of blankets and pillows

hortensio: And adverbs.
axmxz: Don’t most people get ready after getting up, not before?
hortensio: It’s magic, bitch.
axmxz: *wilts*

“Five more minuets” came a grumble from under the blankets, Lee smiled darkly to himself.

hortensio: Ladies and gentlemen – a musical interlude.

*hortensio and axmxz slow-dance a minuet. It’s awkward.*

hortensio [conversationally]: You know, in Russian ‘minet’ means a blowjob.

“Five Four” Lee said, his eye starting to burn, and the heating in the room increased.

axmxz: This kid should rent himself out in Finland. “Ordinary Boy™! Flames From Every Orifice!(R) Heats your sauna, then heats you!”

A more annoyed grumble came from the boy under the covers as he realised what his friend was about to do “don’t you dare”
“Three two” continued Lee, his light brown hair now lifting from his head as fire filled his eyes “one” the covers that Harry was sleeping under burst into flame, causing the boy underneath to scurry out on his hands and knees.

axmxz: *sings*

“Come on baby, light my fire
Come on baby, light my fire
Try to set the night on fire, yeah..!”

Lee closed his eyes, abruptly stopping the fire completely, he then looked down, with his now ordinary brown eyes, to the black haired boy at his feet.
“That was unnecessary Lee, I was really gonna come out in five minuets” (more minuets!) Harry said putting a pup dog pout on (LOLpup), Lee smiled, then frowned and became serous as he pulled out, a slightly singed, letter out of the conjoined pocket of his hooey.

hortensio [conversationally]: You know, in Russian “hooey” means “dick.”
axmxz: Now you’re just hooeying with me.

“Someone wrote you a letter Harry I haven’t opened it, here” Lee handed the letter over to his friend, as if he was afraid it was bomb, once the letter was in Harry’s passion he smiled “we’re having a delicacy for breakfast, your gonna love it” Lee didn’t say anymore and left Harry with the singed letter.

axmxz: “…Once the letter was in Harry’s passion he smiled “we’re having a delicacy for breakfast?”
hortensio: Another drink is in order. What goes well with a delicacy? maybe a Riesling?

Harry flipped the letter around in his hands, thinking of all the reasons why he be holding (beauty is in the eye of the be-holder?), Harry and Lee had always been careful and used protection, they never helping verb given their real names to anybody so how was it that this letter had his letter (??) had his full name written on it and his precise location, when even he didn’t know exactly where he was (so how did he know that the location in the letter was precise?), was someone tracking him, did they know about all the murders that they committed question mark, exclamation point, exclamation point, existential panic disguised with ellipses.

axmxz: We skip over the letter itself. For those of you who want to read it, refer to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Note the mention of the owl.

“owl?” Harry whispered then jumped to his feet and made a run to the kitchen “Lee please tell me that the delicacy for breakfast isn’t an-” he open the kitchen door and there on the table where the burnt black skeletons of the owners of the house that Harry and Lee had kill a week ago when they decided to move in, and there in the middle of the two opposite skeletons was what Harry had feared “owl”

hortensio: This is a sentence to make serial killers and synagogue cantors alike blush with shame and inadequacy.
axmxz: On a positive note, turns out the Riesling was a good choice! The right balance of sugar and citricity to pair the gaminess of the bird.

More to come.

A blast from the past.

axmxz — Wed, 19 Feb 2014 04:06:05 GMT

This spork is brought to you by your old friends axmxz and professor hortensio

axmxz: We can has reunion nao?

hortensio: We can has, indeed. Hint-hint to Messrs. Fry and Laurie.

Story Or Series Title: Dark Lady
Fandom: Harry Potter
Culprit Author's Name: Rommie03

Full Name (plus titles if any): Hailey Lynn Dumbledore
Full Species(es): Sueora dumbledorensis
Hair Color (include adjectives):
Eye Color (include adjectives):
Unusual Markings/Colorations:
Special Possessions (if any): "a beautiful v- neck, spaghetti strap, pink and maroon gown covered with sparkling stitched flowers on the bodice"; separate apartment within Hogwarts; many electrical appliances, Harry's innocence?

Annoying Origin: Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort.
Annoying Connections To Canon Characters: Great-granddaughter (and so much more) of Dumbledore; daughter of Lord Voldemort.
Annoying Special Abilities: Attends Hogwarts in secret
Other Annoying Traits:

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story:

Summary: Hailey Lynn is the 14 year old great-granddaughter of Dumbledore; unfortunately her father is Lord Voldemort.

axmxz: launches into "You've got to accentuate the positive"

She attends Hogwarts, but only in secret, to keep her out of the hands of Voldemort and away from the students who would harass her. However, she’s tired of hiding and decides to attend the Yule Ball and never mind all the other students. Unfortunately things do not go as planned for her evening. There, she meets Harry Potter, the son of the family her father destroyed and things begin to get interesting.

Disclaimer: Nothing in regards to HP is mine; it’s all J.K. Rowling’s. But my fictional characters, those are mine.

hortensio: The author, she is "currently enrolled in College and seeking [her] B.A. in Anthropology."

axmxz: My B.A. in anthropology. Let me show you it.

Chapter 1: Ballroom Meeting

Yule Ball, Hogwarts

She was late. It wasn’t polite to be late to a Ball, especially one that your own grandfather was hosting.

hortensio: If two wrongs make a right, is it polite to be late to a Ball to which you've not been invited?

axmxz: Wait, I thought he was her great-grandfather. Oversight or foreshadowing of incest?..

Hailey ran down the hall in her heels and as she got to the door she ran right past Hagrid who was also entering. “Hi!” she quickly said and then she added “Bye!” in the same breath. She was wearing a beautiful v- neck, spaghetti strap, pink and maroon gown covered with sparkling stitched flowers on the bodice.

hortensio: I hope you're getting this down, Donatella Versace.

The skirt part was flowing

hortensio: The skirt part was flowing, but what about the bodice part?

axmxz: It was rippling.

hortensio: Not ripping?

axmxz: Maybe once her great-grandfather/grandfather gets there.

and with how it was cut waved about as she ran into the Great Hall.

hortensio: I'm picturing two liveried flunkies following her and brandishing stacks of her gown's patterns for distribution.

Inside, sitting on the sidelines, were sitting two boys, with their dates looking extremely bored and quite annoyed. Harry and Ron were sitting there talking about Hermione and Viktor when Hailey swooshed past.

axmxz: ...so... Ron:Hermione :: Harry:Viktor?

Harry immediately looked up and saw this beautiful girl run right to Dumbledore. He had never seen her before, but felt instantly drawn to her, he had this feeling that he had known her all his life even though he never seen her before.

Also having noticed her entrance was Draco Malfoy.

hortensio: Please to be having given me a break.

axmxz: It's turning into a badly dubbed Bollywood film, except, ironically, without the dancing.

Just by looking at her he immediately knew who she was. She was the daughter of Lord Voldemort.

axmxz: Blood-red eyes... no nose... no hair... unwholesome pallor... yep, it's her all right.

His father had told him that she was believed to be hidden within the Hogwarts castle

Standing with her great- grandfather, “I’m sorry I’m late. I had no clue what to wear and then all of a sudden I see this beautiful dress in my closet. Thank you, Granddad.” she said as she kissed his cheek.

hortensio: You know, I always thought Ms. Versace looked like Dumbledore in drag.

“I hoped you would like it and I knew you would come. Now go on, have fun.” Dumbledore said to her.

Hailey smiled and went onto the dance floor.

axmxz:... and here's the dancing!

hortensio: Apropos Bollywood: a little-known corollary to Chekhov's Gun Law: if a rifle is shown hanging on the wall in the opening scenes of a Bollywood film, then by the end of the film it absolutely must sing a song.

-------------------------------------------------------

axmxz: Nothing much happens in the next several pages besides the Sue leading all of Hogwarts in a menuet.

hortensio: We will spare you the details of the choreography. It goes on for a while, in true Bollywood fashion.

axmxz: Minor points of interest: Malfoy tries to steal the Sue from Ron, rocket science is mentioned, and Harry does a spit-take with punch.

hortensio: And then Sue, Ron and Harry start a pas-de-trois.

-------------------------------------------------------

The three of them began dancing together, which was surprisingly easy. Unfortunately the Patil’s, who were on the dance floor got a little upset that she got the boys to dance but they couldn’t.

hortensio: This is why grammar is important, kids: thanks to a single errant apostrophe, there is now only one Patil, albeit in posession of some unspecified objects currently on the dance floor.

axmxz: Which are getting upset, because they can't bring all the boys to the yard.

Ron grabbed Hailey’s hand and spun her around, he himself was surprised to see that he did it with out hurting anyone. Hailey then turned to Harry and that was when he took her hand and began spinning the both of them around.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. He was pissed now and he knew exactly how to get back at her for humiliating him. He didn’t think that anyone in the room really knew who she was. After the latest song stopped, Malfoy jumped up onto the stage. “I have something to say to everybody. Did all of you know that Hailey Lynn Dumbledore is actually the daughter of Lord Voldemort?”

axmxz: Also, to the owner of the 1993 Firebolt - it's being irrigated by a large black dog. Siriusly.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened as he heard what Malfoy said over the speakers. Harry’s face went emotionless and he looked at her. Everyone standing around Hailey, even Harry and Ron, immediately stepped away. Hailey looked around in disbelief. Not knowing what else to do, Hailey started walking towards the stage and as she stepped up the stairs to the platform she decided to deck Draco in the nose and then as he fell to the ground knee him in the groin.

Draco hit the floor with a bloody, broken nose. “Let me tell you something Draco. That monster may biologically be my father, but it takes more than DNA to be a father. It takes a man, and that Voldemort is not. He killed my mother and left me, and her body, at the entrance of this school to taunt the man I know as my father. My grandfather raised me. He’s my father, not Voldemort.”

axmxz: Did I hear her right? She is Dumbledore's daughter as well?

Dumbledore stepped onto the stage and signaled for everyone’s attention. “She may share DNA with the Dark Lord, but she shares mine as well. Hailey is my great-daughter, and that is final.

axmxz: Wait, she shares Dumbledore's and Lord Voldemort's DNA... and Dumbledore is her father..?

hortensio: I thought the previous affirmation of paternity was a metaphor for nurture, but it's looking like she meant it literally.

axmxz Setting aside for a moment the horrifying implications of Dumbledore being simultaneously her great-grandfather, her grandfather and her father, apparently the Sue is the love-sprog of Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort.

hortensio: I must protest. I fully support gay marriage and procreation, whatever form it might take for Wizards. It's much more disturbing to me that the Sue is genetically seven-eighths Dumbledore.

All of you are to treat her with respect and if I hear about anyone harassing her about her paternity you will be expelled quicker than you can say ‘pumpkin patsies’. Do I make myself clear? My granddaughter will not be defined by his actions. She is not Voldemort.”

axmxz: Interesting how the same logic does not apply to Draco, whose father is no Dark Lord at all but only a lowly Death Eater, and not even a convicted one at that.

hortensio: Apropos of Death Eaters: it is a little known fact that a report of their activity appears in a thirteenth-century Muggle manuscript. Unfortunately for contemporary researchers, its only surving copy contains a clerical error - possibly because the scribe, Baruch the Unruly, was recovering from a heavy Purim throwdown. The debate is still raging among Muggle scholars as to what Baruch might have meant with his mysterious lament, 'Death Easter yswept the royalme'.

axmxz: *takes away professor Hortensio's pipe and knocks a clump of suspicious grass out of it*

The room was quiet and Hailey felt everyone’s eyes looking at her. She then looked at Draco for a second before stepping off the stage and walking out of the Dinning Hall. Once she was sure that she was out of the sights of everyone in the room she began running. She ran right outside and headed for the deep, dark part of the forest.

axmxz: It was just outside the shallow, bright part.

hortensio: And she was followed by the still-flowing skirt part of her dress.

Eventually her shoes fell off, but she continued moving. She kept running until she tripped over a fallen branch and when she tried to get back up she realized that she had sprained her ankle. She sprained it bad enough that she was unable to walk, and therefore, stuck somewhere in the middle of the forbidden Dark Forest.

axmxz: *consults a fold-out Rand McNally map of Hogwarts grounds and environs*

hortensio: The forbidden Dark Forest, which is adjacent to the dark Forbidden Forest, can be found on square D-3.

The dance was now starting to wind down, as most of the students had returned to their rooms. Dumbledore had already come to the realization that his granddaughter was missing and went back into the dining hall to ask for some assistance in the search. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Viktor, and Cedric heard Dumbledore ask the teachers for help and they decided to offer their assistance, being the helpful students that they were. Dumbledore gratefully accepted their assistance but asked that they search in groups.

hortensio: Translated out of bureaucratese, this passage reads: "Dumbledore began playing yentl in yet another fic."

Everyone was given different sections to search. Hermione and Viktor were to search around the Black Lake along with quite a few teachers. Cedric and Ron, along with many teachers, were searching the grounds surrounding the school. Dumbledore and Harry took to the Forbidden Forest. A few other teachers also searched the forest, but Harry and the Professor were already on the right path to the young girl.

hortensio: Then again, maybe not - Hermione and Viktor compute, but Cedric and Ron? Dumbledore and Harry??

axmxz: With this Dumbledore, I wouldn't be suprised.

“Harry, I saw you dancing with my granddaughter and then I saw you step away when Mr. Malfoy made that announcement. I want to make it clear to you Harry, she is not Voldemort. I would also prefer you get to know her before you pass judgment on her. I think you’ll find her to be a very interesting young woman.” Dumbledore said as he walked along and found one of her shoes.

axmxz: Suitor beware: at midnight, the Sue will turn into a pumpkin.

“I believe we’re on the right track.”

“Professor, I know she’s not Voldemort, it’s just hard to ignore DNA.” Harry replied.

hortensio: These repeated mentions of DNA are disconcerting from people who have not been taught the basics of organic or even general chemistry.

axmxz: Although I can imagine poor deprived Snape sleeping with a tattered Linus Pauling textbook, its margins decorated with hearts, secreted away under his pillow...

Dumbledore knew exactly how to respond to what had just been said.

hortensio: By fax? By voicemail? By interoffice memo?

“Harry, the night your parents were murdered, Hailey was restless. I could not get her to sleep for the life of me. She cried for hours, kept everyone at Hogwarts up all night. I have a feeling that she knew what was going on, and in her own way was protesting against it.” Finding another one of Hailey’s shoes he continued, “When Hagrid brought you to me later that night on Privet Drive, I had her with me. It was only when she saw you in Hagrid’s arms that she calmed down and fell asleep in Professor McGonagall’s. I believe you two share a cosmic connection of some sort, after all you were born on the same day and at the same exact time.”

axmxz: Cosmic connection. Oy vey.

hortensio: Skype?

Harry didn’t quite know what to say. He was still trying to get over the fact that Hailey was restless that night, but the connection thing would have explained a lot of things.

hortensio: My BA thing, let me thing you it.

It was then that Dumbledore saw the shape of his granddaughter lying against a giant tree. “Hailey!”

axmxz: The shape? Not his granddaughter, just the shape?

hortensio: Like the Virgin Mary on a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Granddad, I sprained my ankle. I don’t think I can walk back.” Hailey said, obviously not registering that Harry was there just yet.

axmxz: The Sue apparently has the vision of a velociraptor, only seeing things when they move.

------------------------------

They make the trip back to Hogwarts. Harry carries the Sue all the way there. Because why not.

------------------------------
Harry quickly took her up to see Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing. Up there Harry was asked to set her down on one of the beds. As Madam Pomfrey began looking at Hailey’s ankle as Harry sat down in a chair next to her bed. Hailey was beginning to look a little pissed off at Madam Pomfrey. “Woman, would you please decide what you are going to do and stop touching it before I knock you up alongside the head.” Hailey said to her.

axmxz: And then Pomfrey hexed her into a tadpole for being a spoiled rude bitch. The end.

hortensio: Unfortunately, it's not the end just yet.

Madam Pomfrey just looked at Hailey and then quickly hurried off to get the required potion.

“Sometimes I swear this isn’t a hospital but rather a torture house. All she does is sit and prod at you for minutes on end, and then she sees fit to heal you.” Hailey was maneuvering around on the hospital bed to try and get comfortable when she lost her balance and fell backwards towards Harry who luckily caught her before she hit anything.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“To be quite honest with you; I don’t know. I was having a good day and then I stupidly decided to come down to a ball where it currently appears that a stupid boy named Draco ruined my life. Now I can never show my face in these halls again, I’m forced to hide once more. So why don’t you tell me how I’m doing Harry?” she said in a sad and depressed tone. As she pulled herself back to the surface of the bed Harry saw a tear escape out of the corner of her eye. It was then that he realized he could not sit in judgment of her and that she was also haunted by what Voldemort had done.

“You’re really not like him are you?” Harry said as he looked at her.

Looking at Harry she replied, “Of course not. He’s a killer, and a horrible man. No one in their right mind would do those sorts of things to people or order someone else too.” She took a pause and looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry about your parents Harry. I kind of know how you feel; he killed my mother too. I’m frankly surprised he didn’t kill me. After all it wasn’t a girl he wanted. He wanted a son, an heir to his stupid throne I suppose.”

“I’m sorry about your mother too.” Harry said as he picked up her hand. Hailey looked back over to Harry. “You don’t have to stay here with me Harry. You’re more than welcome to headed up to bed.”

“No, I’m fine. Besides Dumbledore asked me to stay with you until he returned.” Harry stated.

“Do you always do as my granddad says?” Hailey responded.

Harry chuckled, “No not all of the time. If you haven’t heard, I have a knack for rule breaking.”

Hailey smiled, “Well, it looks like we have more in common than we realized.”

“Can you talk to snakes too?” Harry blurted out, he was curious to find out.

“Yes I can. *headdesk* Were you able to hear that Basilisk in the pipes a few years ago too? Man that thing scared the hell out of me.” Hailey had never met anyone else who could speak parseltounge.

“Yes, I killed it, down in the Chamber of Secrets.”

“I heard you did. I’ve heard about a lot of the things you’ve been doing since you’ve been at Hogwarts. To be honest, I’m a bit jealous of you.” Hailey said to Harry.

Harry was shocked, “You’re jealous of me, but why?”

“Because you get to run around and destroy evil and I’m stuck inside most of the time reading and practicing my magic. I’m already on a fifth year level. I don’t really have much else to do, so I study a lot. Now during the summer, when there are no other students here I spend every waking moment outside. Most usually I’m with Hagrid on some wild adventure in the forest. But during the school year, I spend most of my time alone. I haven’t been out of my apartment in weeks.”

“You have your own apartment?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I have my bedroom, a second bedroom, a guest room, a study/library, a living room, a kitchen, and four bathrooms.

axmxz: What a poopy Sue.

hortensio: Our first potty joke of the evening, ladies and gentlemen. Our restraint, let us show you it.

axmxz: Why hold it in when we have four bathrooms?

You’ll be glad to know that Dobby is actually my companion now, he stays in the guestroom. He does all the cooking and cleaning for me. He get’s paid and best of all, he loves it. He has freedom.” Hailey finished just as Madam Pomfrey returned with the required potion juice.

“Here you go my dear, you’ll be better in no time.” Madam Pomfrey quickly gave Hailey the cup containing the juice and hurried off. Hailey grimaced at the cup before drinking it as if it were a shot of whisky or something. Hailey managed not to let too much of the taste linger on her tongue, but still what taste there was, was in fact a strawberry flavor.

hortensio: What syntax there was, was in fact atrocious.

Licking her lips she said, “Interesting. It tastes like strawberries. Unusual for medicine around here to actually taste good, there’s bound to be something wrong.” Then Madam Pomfrey quickly ran back with a different cup.

“I’m so sorry Hailey, I got your medicine and a cup of strawberry juice mixed up.” she said as she grabbed the cup from Hailey and handed her the correct one.

axmxz: Pomfrey's incompetence, let me show you it.

hortensio: All right, that's enough now.

“I had a feeling you would be saying that.” Hailey again drank it like a shot of Whiskey and luckily was able to avoid most of the gross taste.

hortensio: Notice that the 'whisky' mentioned earlier now comes with 50% more W and a dash of E.

axmxz: Given Pomfrey's apparent inability to distinguish between sprained-ankle potions and strawberry juice, it is not out of the realm of possibility that what Sue drinks like a 'shot of Whiskey' is, in fact, the real McCoy.

hortensio: Which would actually go a long way to explain what happens next.

She still made a slight funny face and stuck her tongue out a bit. “Gross. Why is everything always so gross?”

axmxz: Aw, cheer up, emo kid.

Madam Pomfrey just gave her a cross look and hurried back off. “Harry, would you mind helping me break out of this hell hold?

axmxz: "Hell hold"?

hortensio: "'Scuse me while I kiss this guy."

axmxz: "Gladly, my cross-eyed bear!"

I’d just prefer to sleep in my own bed, considering that a sprained ankle isn’t a life or death situation.”

Harry looked back at where Madam Pomfrey disappeared and decided that Hailey was right and so he stood up and picked her up. Making his way around all the furniture he and Hailey left the hospital wing. “Which way is it to your apartment?”

axmxz: Color me suspicious, but I think the Sue has designs on Harry.

hortensio: Hmm. Didn't she just complain that "everything [is] always so gross?" Looks like Harry is exempted from this ubiquitous grossness.

axmxz: And yea, the emo kid prayed; and lo, Dumbledore has provided.

“Start heading towards Dumbledore’s office. There’s a Hippogriff statue a little ways before it that would be the entrance to my apartment.” Hailey responded.

The walk was a short one and they reached the Hippogriff statue in no time. Harry stepped onto the concrete of the statue, between the wings.

axmxz: How the hell does he know to do this?

hortensio: Perhaps this sort of thing is de rigeur for Hippogriff statues...

Hailey then spoke the password, Shadowfax, and the statue began twirling up, taking them up to the door. Hailey managed to open it and she and Harry went inside. Harry immediately noticed the décor in the room; it was very much like an indoor winter wonderland.

axmxz: Cold? Drafty? Slushy?

hortensio: Streaked with toboggan tracks and accented with elk urine?

“Where would you like me to set you?” Harry asked.

“The couch is fine.” Hailey replied. Harry went over to the couch and set her down. “Hey, would you like to stay and hang out Harry? We can watch a movie.”

A TV? At Hogwarts? Harry was surprised, “Sure I’ll stay and hang out.” Hailey smiled and grabbed a few remotes off of her coffee table.

hortensio: I thought electricity didn't work at Hogwarts?..

axmxz: "A few" remotes? Let's see, one for the TV proper; one for the DVD-player... that makes 'a couple' - what are the rest for?

“Now Harry, would you like to watch a horror, sci-fi, action, comedy, or chick flick?” Harry looked quite confused now. “Harry those are different genres of movies. I think we should do a mix of sci-fi and action, are you up for it?”

axmxz: Why does Muggle-raised Harry need a crash course in movie genres from the Dumbedore-raised spawn of Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Voldemort and Dumbledore?

hortensio: I'm still wondering what the other remotes were for.

“What kind of movie are we talking about here?” Harry asked.

hortensio: A mix of sci-fi and action, Harry. Pay attention. There will be a quiz before you'll be allowed to leave.

Hailey smiled, “Resident Evil. It’s about scientific experiments and there consequences. I warn you though, there is quite a bit of killing and death in this movie. The Heroine kills the zombies that result from the experiment. It’s not for the squeamish. Or we could a horror movie called Primeval about a 30 foot man eating croc. It’s your pick.”

hortensio: o_0

axmxz: ?

hortensio: I'm sorry, I just horribly and utterly misread those last two sentences. I'm not going to go into details, as there may be children present; suffice it to say that 'croc', 'pick,' and the missing hyphen in 'man-eating' were involved. Intimately so.

axmxz: *faints*

Harry wasn’t sure which movie would be better. “How about Resident Evil, that sounds quite interesting.”

Hailey smiled and pressed a few buttons. The TV turned on, a few other things turned on and this caused Harry to sit down quite quickly.

hortensio: Okay, so we find out what one of the other remotes was for - to turn on Harry.

axmxz: But there are still other things besides Harry, the TV, and the DVD player being turned on. This is perplexing.

hortensio: A turntable with Wagner? Strobe-lights? The oven?

axmxz: So that's why your dates never return...

The movie quickly came on and began the story of the T-Virus and all of its consequences.

axmxz: My movie Sue-nopsis, let me show you it.

hortensio: *punches axmxz*

Back in the hospital wing Madam Pomfrey came out of the back to find Hailey and Harry gone. She noticed Dumbledore come in and noticed the strange look on his face.

hortensio: When it comes to noticing things, Pomfrey just can't multitask.

“Where is my granddaughter Madam Pomfrey? She was supposed to be here with Mr. Potter.”

hortensio: You see, children, a comma is like a condom: neglect to use one, and you may spawn.

axmxz: I'm actually starting to think that Dumbledore is the only fertile wizard alive. He seems to have fathered everyone. Some people even more than once.

“Well she was here when I checked 15 minutes ago, but I come back out and they both are gone.” she responded.

Dumbledore had a feeling that Hailey persuaded Harry to take her back to her apartment. “It’s alright, I know where she went. I’ll just go check on her in the morning then.” Dumbledore quickly departed and headed over to his office.

hortensio: He'll be waiting by that door in the morning with a drafted marriage contract, two witnesses, and an inked quill.

axmxz: And a singing shotgun.

In the apartment, Harry and Hailey stayed up until the early morning hours. After the movie had ended they spent the rest of the time talking. They talked about the horrible things the Dursley’s had done to Harry in the past, about Hailey’s childhood at Hogwarts and just about school. They also talked about the daring adventures Harry had gone on in the past. By the time they fell asleep on the couch it was already four in the morning.

AN: I kind of just want to know what the readers are thinking in regards to this one, so let me know if it's going good or if you see no future in it.

axmxz: I don't think I could see future in this fic if it had been brewed in a pot with the best Ethiopian coffee grounds.

hortensio: Or the choiciest Darjeeling tea leaves.

axmxz: Despite that, we hope beyond hope that the Suethor continues the saga.

hortensio: I especially want to know if she ever gets around to turning off the Wagner, the strobe-lights, and the oven.

axmxz: *confiscates the professor's pipe and shoves it up an orifice that shall remain nameless - until the next installment.*

Как все было на самом деле. Избирательный участок №6 г. Москва. Хроника одного дня.

axmxz — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 17:09:20 GMT

Originally posted by vyrodok at Как все было на самом деле. Избирательный участок №6 г. Москва. Хроника одного дня.

После того, как окончился этот кошмар, находясь больше суток без сна и в постоянном напряжении, в моей голове ритмично пульсировала только одна фраза "это пиздец", повторяемая с бешеной частотой, но обо всем по порядку. Может я чересчур подробно описываю всё, но мне хочется чтобы вы "прожили" этот день со мной.

Итак где-то за месяц до выборов депутатов гос. думы 2011 в интернете мне попалась реклама Яблока "поучаствуй в контроле за выборами". Я из любопытства заполнил форму и вскоре пришло приглашение на семинар, где мне выдали много полезной информации и рассказали, что творится на выборах в РФ периода путинского правления. Посещая тренинг, я еще не был уверен, что реально хочу целый воскресный день провести на участке, занимаясь по сути низкоквалифицированной тяжелой физической работой. Однако, наслушавшись этих ужастиков и не вполне доверяя им, я в полной мере решил один день жизни посвятить этому увлекательному и познавательному мероприятию - контролировать важнейший из институтов демократии - выборы депутатов законодательного собрания РФ.

Поскольку я привык к каждому делу относится основательно, то я посетил один и тот же тренинг рассчитанный на два часа интенсивной информационной накачки два раза. Ведущая семинара (похожая не Хелен Хант, и я её про себя так и назвал) рассказывала случаи, от которых волосы вставали дыбом и я, конечно же, делил её слова на 4, всецело полагая, что у страха глаза велики и она нас просто накачивает негативом.

Сразу скажу, что не являюсь ни членом партии Яблоко, ни активным почитателем Явлинского и вообще склонялся к варианту нах-наха.

Здесь на Яблоковском видео в полной мере отражен ход и атмосфера тренинга.

axmxz — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 04:15:45 GMT

Ah, Stas Podlipsky, the gorgeously twisted frontman of "Dour Faces Club". King of Scumbags; Hamlet of the New Wave. He sang punk, and he sang shanson, but most importantly, he sang and continues to sing Odessa itself. In the best rock-n-roll tradition, he shot up, snorted and smoked so many illegal substances that they apparently pickled him inside out - for a man whose music career is now wrapping up its third turbulent decade, he looks remarkably fresh. Various rock encyclopedias list him as having died either in 1995 or 1998. I'm sure this amuses him to no end.

axmxz — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 03:04:09 GMT

Hey Russians! Recognize this lovely lichiko?

That's a still from the 1981 short film "Ivanov," starring.... *drum roll*... Boris Grebenschikov.

Let's all take a couple of minutes to mourn the ephemeral nature of human beauty.

axmxz — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 21:48:23 GMT

Never heard this Akvarium song before... like a knife through the heart.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVWy-GG_1f4

axmxz — Sun, 06 Nov 2011 01:47:51 GMT

How time flies. Just saw the third opera in Wagner's Ring cycle via Met telecast. Only one left now: Goetterdaemmerung.

This Siegfried was pretty much two and a half acts of pure delight, though some of it probably not quite intentional, and then 40 or so really underwhelming minutes with Bruenhilde. The stage machine actually worked like it was supposed to, - a bit noisy but c'est la vie. It really does create magical sets, so perhaps it was worth all that moolah.

Everyone returned from the previous productions, - Mime (very clear and quite powerful, especially in contrast to reedy Siegfried), Wotan (Bryn Terfel, fabulous from habit to boot), Alberich (delicious), Fafner, Erda, and Bruenhilde (even more meh than last time - Voigt sounds rather screechy on high notes). The tenor singing Siegfried, however, was an understudy, this aw-shucks middle-aged guy from Paris, Texas. Not a big voice but a sweet one, a lyric tenor instead of a Heldentenor. Quite suitable to sing a 17-year old boy, but perhaps not quite as suitable to sing a 17-year old demigod. He did his best to gambol on stage, but he couldn't quite recreate Siegfried's off-putting masculine teenage aggression, so he just looked like a frolicking golden retriever. He's also plainly not used to having an HD camera trained on him, unless he really did intend for all those adorably puzzled faces to be seen by everyone. Perhaps he did - he certainly played Siegfried silly and dit-witted to the hilt.

But the biggest laughs came during intermission, when he would retreat backstage. Since this was a telecast, he got ambushed by Renee Fleming with a microphone after every act. Imagine Siegfried striding backstage in his armor, the sword Nothung in hand, tall, broad, with a great blonde mane halfway down his back, suddenly blinking his baby blues helplessly at the nice lady and meowling: "Oh my Gaaaawd this is so haaard!...I have no oxygen left in my braaaaain!.." Then the camera would follow him to his room, and all the females in the movie theater would exhale this massive "Aaaawww..." watching him crash on the couch and curl up around a blanket. In some ways, it was a perfect continuation of the opera itself: not exactly Siegfried the Blond Beast; more like Siegfried the Blond Moment.

axmxz — Sat, 05 Nov 2011 05:35:00 GMT

The person who left this comment said it all: "плавно открывающийся портал в ад оставили за кадром." (The gradually opening portal to hell was left off camera.)

axmxz — Sat, 05 Nov 2011 04:46:28 GMT

Can someone become a hipster by accident? I don't smoke anything, drink Pabst or any kind of coffee, wear large glasses, sun or otherwise, or sport funky angular hair in colors never found on mammalian heads in nature. I do not live in Brooklyn, and I don't own a fixed-gear bike, or any bike for that matter. All the computers in my house run Windows. I can't play guitar, and I find Zooey Deschanel mildly irritating.

However:

1. Whenever people ask me what I'm listening to on my old mp3 player and I tell them, nine times out of ten I have to follow it up with, "You probably don't know them. It's Russian classic rock/Russian shanson/French chanson/French pop/Finnish folk/Finnish reggae/Czech gypsy rap/Faroese Viking metal/German punk/German dancehall reggae/a renegade philologist singing old Soviet propaganda songs in Yiddish to a klezmer band."

2. I eat gluten-free. (For medical reasons.)

3. I am very good at one very specific craft (bead jewelry).

4. I like hats. Since cutting off my hair, I even look passably okay in them.

5. By now, most of my clothes and shoes are old enough to be if not vintage then at least retro. They fall broadly into two categories: clothes/shoes I still have from high school/college and stuff from thrift stores. Not sure if that is hipster or just sad.

6. I wear fingerless gloves. Arthritis gloves, for the most part - I have bad circulation in extremities.

7. I have one of those bullshit 'creative' jobs that I could never actually live on if I had to.

8. Most of the people I know and hang out with are artists.

9. I constantly write novels I never show anyone.

10. The only thing I watch on TV are cartoons and 30 Rock.

Sigh.

axmxz — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 03:53:55 GMT

Anyone's NaNo actually going well? My muse is flickering in and out. Perhaps an apostrophe is in order: "Veli kulta, veikkoseni, kaunis kasvinkumppalini! Lähe nyt kanssa laulamahan, saa kera sanelemahan..."

axmxz — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 04:39:29 GMT

"Werd ich zum Augenblicke sagen:
Verweile doch! Du bist so schön!
Dann magst du mich in Fesseln schlagen,
Dann will ich gern zugrunde gehn!"

If you think about it, damnation in this case can actually be self-dispensed: the subject's very reaction to that beautiful moment dooms them to suffer through unchecked delectation. Even if the moment reflected virtue in the subject, dwelling on it would constitute the sin of pride - and what if it didn't?

Conclusion: never read either Aquinas or Goethe before bedtime.

axmxz — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 21:19:31 GMT

Re-read a couple of years of entries archived here. Good Lord am I dull. XD

axmxz — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 19:50:42 GMT

Momentous news: I have acquired a Stoppard number. I believe it's 3. I'm currently translating into English a fantastic two-act play that received an award from the Free Theatre of Minsk, where Sir Tom Stoppard is on the Board of Trustees.

In the back of my mind, I'm frantically calculating the odds that this project might grant me entry into some sort of a pro-dissident gathering in NYC. I just want to talk to Stoppard in person once in my life, not as a smitten tongue-tied fangirl but as something approaching a *colleague*...

Oh, who am I kidding. I'll probably just blurt out something idiotic, retreat into a corner and hide behind a tall glass of vodka for the rest of the night.

Finished translating my first novel.

axmxz — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 13:46:40 GMT

Date: Saturday, Oct 15th, 2011. 1:47 am.

Time to prepare for NaNoWriMo. This year, the draft will LIVE.

axmxz — Thu, 05 May 2011 05:51:07 GMT

Command given by Obama to the SEALs:

sudo kill bin laden

axmxz — Mon, 02 May 2011 06:18:13 GMT