Posts Tagged ‘death’

Stuff And Nonsense!

November 22, 2010

Oh, I say! I seem to have been cleft in twain.

What, what? Cut in half, you say? Why, I as well!

Bothersome, that.

Too right! Most unsporting.

Still, one supposes that we ought not to delay that “falling apart” folderol much longer.

Despite the cliché, you understand.

Quite so! Wouldn’t be proper.

Oh, I should think that would be bad form.

Well, get on with it, man!

Right-o!

*collapse*

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In The News: Frozen Body Found In elevator Shaft

November 14, 2009

This is actually a fairly old story that I meant to share much, much earlier this year but just never got around to posting. It’s fascinating yet disturbing that a once-great city has degenerated so far. I find the photograph that went up with this article to be quite haunting.

updated 11:04 a.m. PT, Thurs., Jan. 29, 2009//

DETROIT – It took three calls to Detroit authorities over two days before they recovered the body of a man frozen in ice in the elevator shaft of a vacant warehouse, a newspaper reported Thursday.

Image: Dead body frozen in ice

read more…

The geeks out there might find some WoDish badness here. Remember that the real world’s plenty screwed up on its own…

Billy Mays: Super Strong!

June 28, 2009

For quite a while now I’ve been joking that Billy Mays yelling his way excitedly through everyday situations would be the only reality TV show actually worth watching.

He’s gone now, so it’ll never happen.

The Empty Chair

March 4, 2008

Dungeon MasterHe's between Nichelle Nichols and Stephen Hawking
E. Gary Gygax, pictured above standing between Nichelle Nichols and Stephen Hawking, failed his saving throw versus death on March 4, 2008. He was born on July 27, 1938, the same year in which Superman appeared for the first time.

The Dungeon Master will be missed.

Thank you, Gary.

The following poem, which I humbly present in his memory, is from Knights of the Dinner Table.

The Empty Chair
Eulogy for a Gamer

There is an empty chair,
at the table this day.
A hallowed place where,
a friend once played.
The roll of his dice,
my ears long to hear.
Or perhaps it would suffice,
if he should suddenly appear.
With character sheet in hand,
and a bag of Cheeze-doodles to share.
All his friends would stand,
as he sat in the empty chair.
I hear his voice a-callin’,
and it ties my heart in a knot.
For he cries, “Though a comrade has fallen,
You must play for those who cannot.”
We conquered worlds on the run,
he and I in the name of fun.
And as others may come and go,
I make both both friend and foe.
But what I long for most,
is our past now long a ghost.