Video game/ board game story Idea:-

Setting is a strange world which changes its environment drastically at fixed intervals, the results which may or may not be significant to life on the planet, significant examples (e.g. the world becomes radioactive, the world goes pitch black for extended periods of time, the world's gravity changes, the clouds rain acid), insignificant examples (e.g. there are rainbows everywhere, clouds descend to ground level, the trees start to sway like sentients).

The characters are creatures that live on the surface of the planet. With a world that changes so radically, the creatures often have to resort to different tactics to survive. These creatures are sentient and the reader/viewer/player will identify with them as humans with the full gamut of humanity, and the hook will be going through drastic changes with them as they adapt.

Evolver: These creatures will evolve in response to changes in the environment to survive. (radiation shield to survive radiation, strong climbing claws to survive in an environment of trees). They will evolve uniformly in order to avoid mass confusion should each evolve separately in a different manner, though from time to time, some will present as maverick mutants evolving in a different fashion from the rest, which may create a new phylum or just result in extinction.

Scavenger: These creatures will resemble humanity as in they will not themselves change, but will scavenge from the flora/fauna present in the world to enable themselves to survive. They will use tools. It is not determined if this will present the largest population or the smallest yet (group of people living in caves and surviving holocaust style).

Cocoon: These creatures do not openly evolve to cope with these new situations and may start to die as a result. But in reality, they are evolving within themselves so much so that one day the outer creature will just harden, dry out, and crack open, and the new creature which is designed to survive in the new environment emerges as a butterfly from a chrysalis. They retain their original personalities and demeanours.

Behemoth: These creatures are so large and impervious that whatever changes that the world is subjected to has a minimal effect on them. They are similar to the colossi in shadow of the colossus. A story twist would be a change so radical that even they begin to die off.

Enclave dwellers: These creatures while themselves vulnerable live within an environment or hive which is invulnerable to the mad changes, and will only have to forage forth from this environment from time to time to get essentials. Think mad max like. Story may start in one of these enclave/hives.

Symbiotes: These creatures live in symbiosis with the planet, and in many ways embody the world. So that any changes in the world are first reflected, if not "telegraphed" through the symbiotes, which will give the other creatures clues as to how the planet will change next.

Found a blog today that strangely reminded me of Adrian Mole's diary:

http://palatesensations.blogspot.com/

Substitute the word "entrepreneur" for "intellectual" and you've got Adrian Mole.

Quite annoying.

Excerpt from wikipedia on a movie made on the life of Wernher von Braun, a German born progenitor of the U.S. Space programme (and NASA), who during World War II was a Nazi rocket-scientist heading the team that developed the V2 Rocket, an early ballistic missile used by the German Army in the later part of World War II to launch terror attacks on Allied Cities (1,402 V2 Rockets were fired into England causing substantial casualties).

"'I Aim at the Stars' (1960), also titled 'Wernher von Braun' and 'Ich greife nach den Sterne' ("I reach for the stars"): (von Braun played by Curd Jürgens). Satirist Mort Sahl suggested the subtitle '(But Sometimes I Hit London)'."

Don't ask me why. I found it kinda funny.

I would like to write a story with a character like Vladimir Putin. Low-key, dangerous, inspirational.

Question:-

"How would the unprotected human body react to the vacuum of outer space?"

Answer:-

"At NASA's Manned Spacecraft Center (now renamed Johnson Space Center) we had a test subject accidentally exposed to a near vacuum (less than 1 psi) in an incident involving a leaking space suit in a vacuum chamber back in '65. He remained conscious for about 14 seconds, which is about the time it takes for O2 deprived blood to go from the lungs to the brain. The suit probably did not reach a hard vacuum, and we began repressurizing the chamber within 15 seconds. The subject regained consciousness at around 15,000 feet equivalent altitude. The subject later reported that he could feel and hear the air leaking out, and his last conscious memory was of the water on his tongue beginning to boil." - http://imagine.gsfc.nasa.gov/docs/ask_astro/answers/970603.html

A young male character in a story.

Teenaged asian boy who lives in the same house as his family. He has a room in the house that he lives in. He doesn't touch or move anything in that room, the clothes in his cupboard are untouched, the stationery in the stationery holder is untouched. He lies on the floor so as to leave his bed and bedsheet untouched. He wants to leave no impression anywhere in the house, and the house is just transitional. His parents leave the door open because if it is not open he will not open it, as to open it would be to move the door, and he does not want to change or be part of any part of the house.

I think this was the result of a traumatic experience that severed him from the rest of the world and made him not want to have any impact on the world at all. But I am not sure.

When something in his life happened subsequently to bring him back in sync with the human race. This is symbolized by his increasing interaction with his room. First he lies on the bed. He doesn't remove the blanket and lie under it, but just lies on it, now barely making an impression on something in his room. It is great progress.

But I fear there will either be complete catharsis winding up in a total and dramatic cure. Or he will be betrayed and split from humanity forever.

Words of wisdom from Peter Chean:- " A clean desk is a sign of a cluttered desk drawer."

I've been reading again about Van Tuong Nguyen's final days before his execution by hanging in Changi Prison for trafficking heroin through Singapore.

Once again the individual fades into the backdrop of larger issues.

What particularly struck me was how difficult it was for some to grieve for this young man. I don't mean because of their internal conditions.

"A request was made by Liberal MP Bruce Baird for an official minute's silence to honour Nguyen "to express our compassion for this young Australian and our opposition to the imposition of this barbaric sentence". This was met with strong disapproval by Minister for Veterans' Affairs De-Anne Kelly[16] and representatives of the Returned and Services League, who stated such tributes should be restricted to fallen soldiers or victims of natural disasters. Other groups felt it was inappropriate to "honour" a convicted drug trafficker, claiming that hundreds die each year from heroin overdosing. The request was not officially approved, although many groups paid their respect at 9 a.m., the scheduled time on the east coast of Australia for the hanging. A motion to hold a minute's silence passed in the Queensland Legislative Assembly 49-18 after being debated for nearly an hour. MPs who voted against the move walked out before the observance.

...

His family returned to Australia with his body at 5.30 a.m. December 4, 2005, after an overnight flight to Melbourne.[18] A requiem mass was held at St. Patrick's Cathedral on December 7, 2005, starting at 11 a.m.. The service was conducted in English and Vietnamese. More than 2000 mourners attended, many dressed in white, the traditional Vietnamese colour of grief. Yellow ribbons were tied around elm trees to symbolise rehabilitation at Changi Prison.[19]

The announcement by Victorian MPs Geoff Hilton, Bruce Mildenhall, Sang Minh Nguyen and Richard Wynne that they would attend drew criticism from the Crime Victims Support Association, saying it appeared to give support to a convicted drug trafficker. Premier of Victoria, Steve Bracks, did not attend, saying he did not want to glorify Nguyen in death, but did not oppose the other MPs attending."

The first time I read about him in depth, I cried really hard for the first time in a long time. It had nothing to do with support for drug trafficking, or condoning his actions. It was just so tragic that a loving young man with an ostensibly good heart and kind and gentle nature, had died. Screw the larger issues. A person is dead, will you not join us in grieving?

Here is an article containing some of his letters. http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2005/11/26/1132966006680.html

It is acceptable to tread on or disregard an individual, but not on an established section of society.

So in this age, the individual makes it about the section of society, to strike out at whoever trod on or disregarded them. An age of unbridled selfishness.

"Hatemongerer!"

"Anti-semitic!"

"Homophobe!"

"Apostate!"

nora barnacle

What does your leitmotif sound like?

leit·mo·tif also leit·mo·tiv ( P ) Pronunciation Key (ltm-tf)
n.
A melodic passage or phrase, especially in Wagnerian opera, associated with a specific character, situation, or element.
A dominant and recurring theme, as in a novel.


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[German Leitmotiv : leiten, to lead (from Middle High German, from Old High German leitan. See leit- in Indo-European Roots) + Motiv, motif (from French motif. See motif).]

That day you used a piece of red cloth

To blindfold my eyes and cover up the sky

You asked me what I had seen

I said I saw happiness

The feeling really made me comfortable

Made me forget I had no place to live

You asked where I wanted to go

I said I want to follow your road


- "A Piece of Red Cloth" by Cui Jian (the "father of Chinese Rock and Roll")

There's alone, then there's lonely. I don't mind alone at all. I think there have to be other people to make you feel lonely. Other people to not give a crap, to fix you with blank vacant stares, unabashed hostility; other people to savage an otherwise empty world with their scathing opinions. What do you do when you're lonely but surrounded by people on all sides?

I'm glad for this journal, where I can kind of create a space again where there's no one around.

Some of the things have to do make me wish I was someone else far away. Maybe a guerilla in Lebanon, or an Israeli tankie, wading in bloodshed, but pure and simple in focus and in heart. Full of righteous anger, with something palpable to defend.

The things I have been given to defend. I don't even want to defend.

That's why, if Fidel Castro should pass on, I will weep for him, and remember the many good things that he did, and the part of him that is love for the poor and his people.

At work, I have to focus on the evil in each man.

And when work dictates I focus on the good, it is a plastic, manufactured kind of good. The words of the emperor's sycophant to the people.

God help me. I am so reluctant with the use of my words these days.