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12 January 2008 @ 08:48 am
I know this wont reach many people, but this is as good a place as any to put it.
This is a quote from a lesbian, atheist's blog; I thought it was an absolutely amazing statement and had to share.  It comes from a long list of grievances about our anger as unbelievers and why the believers need to stop trying to take it away.  It's a really good(and long) list, I suggest reading it: http://gretachristina.typepad.com/greta_christinas_weblog/2007/10/atheists-and-an.html

"I get angry when believers act as if these offenses aren't important, because "Not all believers act like that. I don't act like that." As if that fucking matters. This stuff is a major way that religion plays out in our world, and it makes me furious to hear religious believers try to minimize it because it's not how it happens to play out for them. It's like a white person responding to an African-American describing their experience of racism by saying, "But I'm not a racist." If you're not a racist, then can you shut the hell up for ten seconds and listen to the black people talk? And if you’re not bigoted against atheists and are sympathetic to us, then can you shut the hell up for ten seconds and let us tell you about what the world is like for us, without getting all defensive about how it's not your fault? When did this international conversation about atheism and religious oppression become all about you and your hurt feelings?"
13 April 2006 @ 01:00 am
I place here an excerpt from The Dark Tower V: Wolves of the Calla.
It describes the last stand of the last gunslingers out of Gilead and the loss of Eld's Horn:

The day is suffocatingly hot; the sun reaches its roofpeak and then
seems to stay there, as if the hours have been suspended. Below them is
a long sloping field filled with great gray-black stone faces, eroded
statues left by people who are long gone, and Grissom's men advance
relentlessly among them as Roland and his final few companions withdraw
ever upward, shooting as they go. The gunfire is constant, unending,
the sound of bullets whining off the stone faces a shrill counterpoint
that sinks into their heads like the bloodthirsty while of mosquitoes.
Jamie DeCurry has been killed by a sniper, perhaps Grissom's eagle-eyed
son or Grissom himself. With Alain the end was far worse; he was shot
in the dark the night before the final battle by his two best friends, a
stupid error, a horrible death. There was no help. DeMullet's column
was ambushed and slaughtered at Rimrocks and when Alain rode back after
midnight to tell them, Roland and Cuthbert... the sound of their guns...
and oh, when Alain cried out their names--
And now they're at the top and there's nowhere left to run. Behind
them to the east is a shale-crumbly drop to the Salt -- what five
hundred miles south of here is called the Clean Sea. To the west is the
hill of the stone faces, and Grissom's screaming, advancing men. Roland
and his own men have killed hundreds, but there are still two thousand
left, and that's a conservative estimate. Two thousand men, their
howling faces painted blue, some armed with guns and even a few with
Bolts -- against a dozen. That's all that's left of them now, here at
the top of Jericho Hill, under the burning sky. Jamie dead, Alain dead
under the guns of his best friends -- stolid, dependable Alain, who
could have ridden on to safety but chose not to -- and Cuthbert has been
shot. How many times? Five? Six? His shirt is soaked crimson to his
skin. One side of his face has been drowned in blood; the eye on that
side bulges sightlessly on his cheek. Yet he still has Roland's horn,
the one which was blown by Arthur Eld, or so the stories did say. He
will not give it back. "For I blow it sweeter than you ever did," he
tells Roland, laughing. "You can have it again when I'm dead. Neglect
not to pluck it up, Roland, for it's your property."
Cuthbert Allgood, who had once ridden into the Barony of Mejis with
a rook's skull mounted on the pommel of his saddle. "The lookout," he
had called it, and talked to it just as thought it were alive, for such
was his fancy and sometimes he drove Roland half-mad with his
foolishness, and here he is under the burning sun, staggering toward him
with a smoking revolver in one hand and Eld's Horn in the other,
blood-bolted and half-blinded and dying... but still laughing. Ah dear
gods, laughing and laughing.
"Roland!" he cries. "We've been betrayed! We're outnumbered! Our
backs are to the sea! We've got em right where we want em! Shall we
And Roland understands he is right. If their quest for the Dark
Tower is really to end here on Jericho Hill -- betrayed by one of their
own and then overwhelmed by this barbaric remnant of John Farson's army
-- then let it end splendidly.
"Aye!" he shouts. "Aye, very well. Ye of the castle, to me!
Gunslingers, to me! To me, I say!"
"As for gunslingers, Roland," Cuthbert says, "I am here. And we are
the last."
Roland first looks at him, then embraces him under that hideous sky.
He can feel Cuthbert's burning body, its suicidal trembling thinness.
And yet he's laughing. Bert is still laughing.
"All right," Roland says hoarsely, looking around at his few
remaining men. "We're going into them. And will accept no quarter."
"Nope, no quarter, absolutely none," Cuthbert says.
"We will not accept their surrender if offered."
"Under no circumstances!" Cuthbert agrees, laughing harder than
ever. "Not even should all two thousand lay down their arms."
"Then blow that fucking horn."
Cuthbert raises the horn to his bloody lips and blows a great blast
-- the final blast, for when it drops from his fingers a minute
later(or perhaps it's five, or ten; time has no meaning in that final
battle), Roland will let it lie in the dust. In his grief and
bloodlust he will forget all about Eld's Horn.
"And now, my friends -- hile!"
"Hile!" the last dozen cry beneath that blazing sun. It is the
end of them, the end of Gilead, the end of everything, and he no
longer cares. The old red fury, dry and maddening, is settling over
his mind, drowning all thought. 'One last time,' he thinks. 'Let it
be so.'
"To me!" cries Roland of Gilead. "Forward! For the Tower!"
"The Tower!" Cuthbert cries out beside him, reeling. He holds
Eld's Horn up to the sky in one hand, his revolver in the other.
"No prisoners!" Roland screams. "NO PRISONERS!"
The rush forward and down toward Grissom's blue-faced horde, he
and Cuthbert in the lead, and as they pass the first of the great
gray-black faces leaning in the high grass, spears and bolts and
bullets flying all around them...

I long for the tale to be finished, but I know that will likely never happen.
I have recently gotten to the last book in the series again and I have found music based on The Dark Tower, extremely good music and it's made me feel as I always feel: Very much drawn into the story, that the characters are very real indeed...
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Current Music: Demons and Wizards - The Gunslinger
29 November 2005 @ 08:47 am
Your Love Is... by punkrawkerchick
Your kiss is...sizzling
Your hug is...sweet
Your looks are...umm...i dont want to hurt ur feelings
Your love is...perfect
Quiz created with MemeGen!
Current Mood: sicksick
23 November 2005 @ 09:07 am

Sexy QuizAccording to experts, I am :

87% Sexy
Take the Sexy Quiz at JokesUnlimited.com
Current Mood: contentcontent
20 November 2005 @ 03:55 am
You scored as The Beast. Your alter ego is The Beast! But that is only a name... you are kind hearted and sweet, people just misunderstand you.

The Beast


Peter Pan


Sleeping Beauty






Donald Duck






Cruella De Ville


Snow White


Which Disney Character is your Alter Ego?
created with QuizFarm.com
Current Mood: crushedcrushed
19 November 2005 @ 03:28 am
Something I read that I think all people, everywhere should read!

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
Current Mood: calmcalm
13 November 2005 @ 01:20 am
My favorite is missionary and I love foreplay, other than that it's accurate... I was told I should write a book :D

What kinda sex do you like?
Favourite Color
Times you want to fuck a day.. 10
Fav. position 69
How you like it fuck foreplay..LETS SCREW!!
Where do you like doing it in the bed
how good are you? fucking orgasmic
This Quiz by sixmilesleft - Taken 554182 Times.
New - COOL Dating Tips and Romance Advice!

Current Mood: lonelylonely
09 November 2005 @ 11:35 pm
I am single again... the one flame of soon-to-be love is gone from my life... She says she's not ready to be a girlfriend, she needs to heal first... I can't say that I didn't know it was coming, but I was hoping that I would have a chance to make her love me... she wants to be friends, but in my world the road to friendship is a one way street...  She still wants to come over and fool around, spend that night, maybe fuck... I don't know how I'll deal with that, but it's the first time that anyone has wanted to be that way with me... I live on affection, if I didn't, I would have turned down the offer(Maybe)... there is just something about her that makes me happier than I have ever been... it's wonderful and amazing... she said that when she is ready for a relationship that I'm at the top of the list... I wait...

...and wait...
Current Mood: crushedcrushed
09 November 2005 @ 11:28 pm
All I did was pick an image...
Your Brain's Pattern

Your mind is an incubator for good ideas, it just takes a while for them to develop.
But when you think of something, watch out!
Your thoughts tend to be huge, and they come on quickly - like an explosion.
You tend to be quiet around others, unless you're inspired by your next big idea.
Current Mood: disappointeddisappointed
06 November 2005 @ 11:51 pm
You Are 24 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.
Current Mood: tiredtired