Vignette I

Let it be said, "The Quality of Mercy is not Strained".  Once it becomes a strain, what is it?  Ruined?  Or maybe a necessary evil, in and of itself.  What truth is in mercy, what mercy in truth?

It is time of the month after all though.  I think it's full moon tonight, so the worst of the Lunar effects are about to pass, but the cruelest time is yet to come, I fear.  My indestructibility wavers at this most delicate time, and to be honest I'm forgetting how to be a functioning human being.  It's more trouble than it's worth at the best of times, but this is getting silly.  In my short time on this forsaken rock, I have found out, usually the hard way that communication is the only real way forward.  As long as the veil of silence can be parted, dead ends are opened, the crooked made straight and the rough places plain.  Silence isn't golden.

But can everything be solved by talking?  Sometimes action and good faith are required.  Not to mention patience.  The way you move is a mystery.  But then again, I have, and will always believe that there is another way.  What this other way is at the moment is a complete mystery, to use the term again.  It will reveal itself in due time.

Why do I have to wait?  Because the quality of mercy is not strained.  And by not waiting so far, I am straining at the bounds of mercy.  There's still time.  As long as I don't break completely in the intervening age, there is still time.  I will not surrender or give up, not while I'm only shattered.  Even then, I think that part of me would survive the reset that looks more likely every day.  An immutable part of my genetic heritage, or I would want it to be.  I've never given up, and I'll be damned if I start now.  Or maybe I'll be damned if I don't give up?

I just can't say anything at all.

Vignette: Prelude

I'm hardly done with the confessions by any stretch of the imagination, I mean, ok I can list my nerdish pursuits, but I have far more 'wrong' with me than that.  However, as any of you who have been following me on twitter (and of course, the feed is on the side of this very page) will notice that of late I have become troubled, in primarily an emotional sense, which is spilling over into the physical domain.  As such, it is time to resurrect an ancient tradition from my MySpace blogging days, the Vignette.  Wiktionary defines the word to various degrees, but the one I'm most interested in is that of a borderless picture, or a short story.  

The MySpace vignettes no longer exist, I deleted my whole blog thanks to the fact that most of it was tied into a relationship that broke down...badly.  I don't want to go into any detail, because that chapter is behind both parties now, I refer only to it in a historical sense for this purpose.  But the Vignettes stood apart, mostly built on non-sequitur nonsense, such as the state of my thumbnail.  I also distinctly remember writing on in Middle English, which was a good laugh at the time!  

Now, I bring them back, not because I am full of happy non-sequiturs, but because of sadness that grips and threatens to break my core apart.  If it succeeds, what makes me me will have to change again.  Thus, no bit.ly link will be issued for the Vignettes.  If you find them and read them, then good for you.  These Vignettes are borderless, as instead of being a (scribble on a napkin) planned enterprise, as they slot right into my life.  If my life picks up, so will the Vignettes.  Until then, it is how it is.

Confessions

Dear Reader (yes, I know who you are), it is time to get a little piece of information out of the way.  If I am to continue with this ridiculous "writing about life/myself/other people" schtik on the internet, I must get this off my chest.

I am a nerd.  Like, hardcore.

ZOMG shock horror lol!!!1!!  Blogger admits to being a nerd!  Who would have seen that coming?  Isn't the internet solely populated by cartoonists, nerds, gamers and porn?  I'm playing Fire Emblem: Path of Radience on my Nintendo Gamecube as I type, with Jeph Jacques' Questionable Content open in one of my tabs, in Opera 10.51.  Next to me are 3 books: Star Trek Concordance, Star Trek Phase II the lost series and A.B.C WARRIORS The Volgan War volume 01.  Not 3 feet away from me is a bag from Tombland Books, containing a KJV Bible complete with Apocrypha and a book of the Complete Letters of J.C.W.T. Mozart.  It formerly contained a book of psalm chants and a Critical and Biographical study of Thomas Weelkes.  

This is the thing.  I am a nerd about so many things at once that it boggles the mind.  Like, seriously.  One often wonders how I can go without wearing a shirt with my entire pen collection stashed in the pocket every day...

For instance, I just sent dear old mummy home (after her quick trip down for the opera) with my VCR and DVD players, alongside my video collection, which included the first 8 Star Trek Films and Episodes IV-VI of Star Wars, in the gold special edition box set released in...1998?  Also, my £400 Great Coat is safely back in Derby.  Who the hell just casually owns Star Trek films anyway?  Especially on video?  Next year I'll bring my Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy with me as well.  Not the ponderous film adaption, but the classic BBC series.  And if I'm questioned, as I obviously will be, I'll just say it's an integral part of this country's Science Fiction Heritage.  Because it is.  Reading that back, I must have typed that with milk bottle glasses and a massive overbite.

And thinking about it, my overbite is pretty substantial, but I feel I manage to get away with it.

Ok, so being a Trekkie on the quiet is pretty standard for a nerd.  Let's take this to the fridge.  I've followed Questionable Content more-or-less since it started (I joined early but went back to the start as well), so that's 7 years of dedicated reading, 2 days, then 3 days, then 5 days a week for 7 years.  I haven't bought any of the Merchandise yet, but don't think I won't.  I also follow Commissioned, Dresden Codak, Sam & Fuzzy, XKCD, PVP, Reprographics and Least I Could Do religiously.  If I miss a few days I'll backtrack.  Not only that, but I follow the artists/creators on Twitter, and I even follow Yelling Bird because god help me it is so funny.  Eventually, I'll improve this blog post when I learn how to HTML code again, and get all the links in so you can click on the names instead of googling them, or whatever.  

I buy Transformers off eBay, and while preferring G1 rather like the movie designs even though they're horrifically impractical for toy design.  I am salivating wildly at the prospect of purchasing War for Cybertron and actually being Optimus Prime, if in a figurative sense.  IT'S GOING TO BE OFF THE HOOK.  I actually cannot adequately describe how much I love Transformers, right down to the last 'bot and 'con, but especially Grimlock.  He IS Badass in physical form.  As is the Batman!  Man, this gets worse.  Should I keep going?  Hah!  If you're reading this anyway you must have some sort of inkling of my unholy geekdom.  

I enjoy Chess, and actually miss playing regularly.  I have problems with Tetris addiction.  I own my own Dice bag, and know enough D&D basics to fight my corner in a quest.  I used to collect Warhammer 40K (Dark Angels).  Terrible, isn't it?  

Musically, I'm just as bad, which is once again, pretty standard for a music student.  Equal Temperament is for suckers, and Valotti is for the weak.  Johann Sebastien Bach got thrown into prison in Weimar for getting into a fight in public.  Orlando Gibbons died of a stroke, Nicholaus Bruhns could improvise a bass line on the Pedals and play solo Violin over the top.  Samuel Pepys was a Flageolet player.  Handel learned to play keyboard on a Spinet in his attic.  Blah blah blah...

I could go on.  In a totally specific way about absolutely everything.  All the time.  So I just thought I'd let you know, I'm a bit of a nerd.  How the hell do I show my face in public?  Answers on a postcard to the usual address...

p.s.  If you can find the DK reference you get points.

BOMB THE BLOGOSPHERE

So.  Here we are again after...hoo!  How many long years has it been since the last ponderous tirade of thought, that amusing slice-of-life commentary, that self-serving cry for attention that is Paul-Ethan Bright's so called Web log?  Thank God I cleared out my MySpace.  I think I did anyway?  Man, I hope so anyway.  To those who can find it, if it exists still anyway...it may explain much...or not!

Internet, we meet again.  Long has it been since your wispy tendrils enfolded my typing in such a fashion.  

I make no apologies as to what you will find from now on.  Names may be changed...if only to preserve my longevity rather than the identity of others.  Existential crises are as standard, as is ranting about the proper method of making a cup of tea (yes Mark, I mean you).  Cringeworthy personal details are to follow shortly as well, but hopefully we can stay away from those awful whiney-ass posts where I bemoan wasting my time trying to pull 25 year olds. 

Unless it happened just then.  Crumbs.

Here we are then.  Hand in hand almost, dear reader (yes, just the one of you), we stand at the dawning of a new age of bloggage, screaming WRY GOD WRY until my lungs fall out.  Figuratively, of course.

Welcome to the poor end of the Stall.  I'll be your first alto!