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The year’s end.

To the best of my knowledge, New Year’s Eve parties are all about deadlines.

The end of the year is arriving faster than any of us wanted it to, and now we are all desperately scrambling to do something, anything, of value before that deadline hits us like an ice cream truck running into a brick wall at ninety miles per hour.

We want to do something of value, something worth remembering, something to distract us when we look back on the existential morass of our lives thus far. And so we party. We spend the night among friends or family and try to live out some of the things that tradition decrees will be worth remembering. So we reach for those old jokes, that special kiss, and in many cases that bottle of alcohol.

And then, when we wake up in the morning, or the afternoon, or whenever we finally drag ourselves out of bed, we rise to greet… nothing new. A number has changed. That is all. The traditions we have grown up with led us to reach for a feeble attempt at real, worthwhile human activity, only to hand us what was left at the bottom of the discount barrel at the dollar store. We waited till the last minute to do something with the year, and this is what we have to show for it.

Maybe this year we’ll remember to do something before its too late.


I am White/Blue. No.

I am White/Black, let me make you an offer you can’t refuse.

I am Blue/Black, you will not remember this conversation.

I am Blue/Red, I like blowing things up with my mind.

I am Black/Red, I am wanted for arson.

I am Black/Green; reduce, reuse, recycle.

I am Red/Green. Kill them! We Eat!

I am Red/White, dispensing justice!

I am Green/White, tune in to the cosmic consciousness man.

I am Green/Blue, my cat plays better chess than you.


They’re communist.


Forsworn RecruitSilvertongue AngelSoul Recruiter

Michael Spirit Siphon

So I just got back from the last Science Olympiad of my High School career. (Throwing some bait out to the internet stalkers here O.o) In any case, here’s the details in a convenient, organized fashion.

First thing’s first: It was epic/awesome/fantastic/everypositiveadjectiveI’mtoolazytolisthererightnow.

Most Important: One of my best friends (as part of a pair with my other very good friend) won a first place medal in an event called Write-it-do-it. We are currently attributing this to the fact that the two people are the same person, which is a force more powerful than telepathy. I’ll let the internet figure that one out for itself. More importantly, this mean he finally got a medal after four years of hard work and he managed to trump out everything I ever did by that being a first place medal. So hooray for you, friend!

Second Most Important: The team that this same friend and I co-led got 13th overall out of about 33ish teams total. This is an amazing feat when you consider that we were the auxiliary team from our school (the primary team got 10th overall) and that we didn’t even enter four events. tl;dr: My team is so awesome it almost outcompeted the main team.

Least of all: I also happened to get two medals, a 3rd place in Designer Genes and a 2nd place in Disease Detectives, as well as a 5th place ribbon in Astronomy. The latter two awards were huge surprises, especially in Disease Detectives where I was actually writing down everything that was missing from my notes so that next year’s team could be more prepared. I knew I did well in Designer Genes. I think my teammate and I did pretty well in Technical Problem Solving too, but we only got 17th there. Ah well, such is life.

Additionally: Apparently the music of the 25th anniversary orchestrated Legend of Zelda CD gives me superpowers. That is all.


–Comrade Timekeeper

I Am the Master of My Fate

I Could Have Died 3

I am the captain of my soul.

I Could Have Died 4

And I am #@$%ing invulnerable.


Check out this thing I made!

Sila Spawn of Flame


Lorias of World's End

Just because I want to remember later that these still exist.


This is me.



This is me, irrefutably proving through action that this is me.


On Fate

Some determinists personify Fate, and call it God.