Pandekar

Cannibal Query

Fri, 09 May 2008 19:47:46 GMT

People say the nicest things!

Thu, 08 May 2008 18:11:03 GMT

from my weekend...

"...Aikido lessons vrax is absolutely amazing, both as a teacher and a fine fighting specimen. Have you ever seen a person who wears his lethalness in the way he walks? It's like that, looking at him -- you can't help but be acutely conscious of how effortlessly he could kill you, while at the same time being so grateful that he's a lovely person who's interested in teaching you and does Reiki and is all around wonderful."

I am an old man

Tue, 06 May 2008 14:25:15 GMT

Thanks to all those who who have sent good wishes, and helped pay for the concert, and travelled long roads, sometimes crossing national borders to be there, and made the wonderful food we had, and played the wonderful music we had...

Yeah. Good times, thank you all for enriching my life.

Flu=bad // Jujitsu death squad=good

Fri, 02 May 2008 14:17:16 GMT

Edit: I won!

Hi everybody! I have been very ill all week with the genuine flu. Not some knock off flu, oh no, this was the primo shit.

I do not recommend it.

Since my mind and body were closely related to oatmeal all week I haven't posted anything. Well, except a ditty in the_darkward about what sorts of fantastic fever dreams and obsessions I had with this lovely disease.

Right! So, speaking of obsessions, I kind of like the professional fighting. You may have noticed, or heard me mention it. I also love snakes, and have them tattooed in various places on my body, and I love Jujutsu*. Which brings me to this;

Which I have a chance to win! I made a comment on cagepotato.com that gave the editors a laugh. So I'm now #2 in their comment of the week contest. If I win, I get my death squad shirt.

Please go vote for me over at http://www.cagepotato.com now! The survey is on the right side, mid page. (I am Vrax)

Thanks and have a great weekend. No flu!

Sometimes spelled Jiu-jitsu, which is the Portuguese spelling in more common use from the popularity of Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. My training is all in Japanese Jujutsu so that's how I spell it.

Being the Guardian Part 3: Final

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 17:37:02 GMT

Dmitri's part is Here
Part 1 is Here
Part 2 is Here

We gathered, masked and cloaked in the clearing. I ran back and forth to bring each member of the circle to that place, while those already present cleared the ground of jagged branches, blessing Dmitri's eventual impact.

Each time I headed out to retrieve a new guest I flew a bit more, jumped a bit farther, ran a bit faster. I was hopping from fallen tree to fallen tree, my crane and dragon embossed kimono flowing behind me. It felt very crouching tiger.

Everyone was in place. The veiled guide had given him his choice of potions - Green. Blindfolded and lead by his priestess Dmitri made his way through the tangle of branches and streams. As they approached the masked figures a collective deep breath was taken, and merged with desire, it was exhaled.

"Do you want this?" Shouted the priestess.

"I WANT THIS!" came justbeast's emphatic reply.

"Do you accept this?"

"I Accept It." he uttered reverently, realizing that his trial would soon begin, but still unaware of its nature.

The priestess removed his blindfold and spoke once more "There." she gestured toward me "That is the guardian. You must fight your way past him to reach the next phase of your life".

I had been facing away from him and turned around to meet his gaze. Discarding my kimono I raised my hands and beckoned him forward. He saw the mask, first, I think, then my eyes. He knew who it was blocking the path.

Aware of my skill he approached undaunted, no fear, simply a man with a task that had to be accomplished. Raising his own hands he threw out a rather cursory jab, which I batted to the side. We circled for a moment, I was waiting for him. A quick one-two from him was deflected and I wrapped my arms over his, hugging him to my body, preparing to throw him. But instead I waited, for a moment that seemed to stretch itself out like a yawning cat.

As I knew it would, his foot began moving to trip me, so I took my opportunity, and tripped his far leg, simultaneously releasing my grip over his arms, so that his back would land hard, unhindered by my hands. WHUMP. The ground made no effort to act as a cushion and I could feel that he did not exhale on the fall - that hurts.

Instinctively he jerked his legs up a bit but I was already in side control, having secured a Clock Choke in the transition. I loosened my grip, not intending him to be unconscious. I raised him via the hold and allowed for an escape.

We wrestled, twisting together and being decorated by the muddy ground, painted as warriors. He grabbed for my legs, which I sprawled back, then hooked his into a cradle and floated to take his back. This was my opportunity!

"If he doesn't bleed, it isn't real" echoed the words of yuki_onna loud like a thunderclap that only I heard.

Normally if I've got someone's back, they're getting choked out. That's just how it is. So when I felt my arm moving, as it had been trained to do, to cover Dmitri's air- and blood-ways I altered the trajectory to land it as a forearm shot across his mouth.

Sorry bout the lip dude, but it had to go down that way.

He reacted and reached up for my wrist. I let him have my sleeve instead. I proceeded to roll off his back to the side and create a position he could muscle out of. He was bleeding, and hurt from the impact of the takedown. Tired and heaving with each breathe.

Still no fear, just a man with a task. He threw me off.

"It is done" I yelled from my position lying in the muddy grip of earth and leaf, next to him - my brother. "Go forward and claim your prize".

I'll leave others to reveal themselves and their gifts. "With this gift I bless you and welcome you to my tribe" I said presenting him with my grandmother's Taiji sword, used in her 17 year training to become an instructor.

Welcome, brother.

I will soon be the dirty 30; PSA

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 13:55:19 GMT

A note about birthday presents: If I did not request the gift it will be thrown away.

The only things I want are a personal concert (which is booked and I'm personally in the hole for $700 on that right now) and more tattoo work.

Which means that, really, the only thing I want is money.

I understand if you don't give money as a gift ever, that's ok. I simply ask that you respect my wishes and not give me anything else. I have no need for "stuff" of any kind, and I'm in the process of reducing the amount of "things" I own.

EDIT: Hey y'all, for real, I'm a frank and blunt dude. This should be no surprise. I don't tend to use soft language for this sort of thing because well, to be frank, I think you're all grown ups who can handle me being straightforward and tactless.

I would like to make clear, that no where in the above entry are the words "angry" "aggressive" "grudge" "upset" "mad" really none of those are there. I left them out on purpose; because I don't get all upset about it. I just recycle the stuff or toss it in the AIDS bin. The reason I posted this was to say "hey if you're buying me an object please don't, it's the same as throwing your money away, and that isn't what I want".

I said it a harsher way because in past years when I say it softly? It gets ignored. I appreciate the thought more than the object. My wife often tells me things like "hey I saw this awesome balisong today and thought of you, but then didn't buy it". And I smile and hug her and feel that love.

Truly.

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 19:10:44 GMT

This is truly wonderful.

Since Catherynne M. Valente is sitting in my office

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 16:12:54 GMT

I feel a strange obligation...no, not an obligation, a sort of magnetic pull to discuss - DUN DUN! - the use of gender in fiction.

However, I am woefully under qualified. However, much like Rock Band - that will not stop me!

So here goes. I'm not even really like attempting to tackle this monumental subject in one go, rather I want to discuss an example of what I consider to be the perfect use of gender in fiction.

At the right of my page is a link which says "My Evil Twin Wrote a Book" and it's true, he did. It's a collection of stories, some really short, some a bit longer. One of them is called "Causing Effect" and it centers around the struggle shared by a loving couple, when one of them begins to display signs of a very serious mental illness. It's also about slackers who love hot donuts. Seriously, buy the book.

So, right, gender, in fiction. Normally I feel that when an author or scriptwriter chooses the gender of a character they do so in order to force some reaction onto the reader/watcher. "Oh I'll make it a woman detective and then when a handsome man comes in we'll have reversed gender roles!" Lame. Because writing like that does not reverse any roles, the roles stay the same and only the name tags are reversed, it does nothing but seem forced. So too with a single father who behaves just like a single mother.

Which brings me to why I think this story, Causing Effect, uses gender so wonderfully. The characters needed to react to the problem in something of stereotypically male-slacker way, or the story doesn't work. So, the author, Adam P. Knave, AKA murnkay chose a gay male couple. The gender of the characters isn't even revealed until midway through the story, and it truly doesn't matter - except to make the behavior of both people in the couple seem more believable.

So when these guys attack the problem like a couple of slacker dudes would, it rings true. And, frankly, if there had been a female character in either role, it would have felt off, somehow. Now, maybe that's just horrid sexism on my part, but I don't think so.

So that is what I'd consider a perfect use of gender in fiction, using it as away to make the characters more believable in whatever situation they're in, not to force a reader reaction. Personally, as a bisexual male, I was heartened to see a gay couple that wasn't being highlighted as "gay", and that dealt with issues other than homosexuality in today's society. They were just a couple in love, reacting to a problem.

Brilliant.

Being the Guardian Part 2

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 20:05:01 GMT

Part 1 is Here.
Dmitri's part is Here.

As I mentioned at the end of the last piece there were potions to be made. But why did we need potions? Right, yes, so about that...

See, at the beginning of the process of structuring this ritual yuki_onna and I decided that a "coming of age" type rite had to feature certain basic elements.

Before I even get to that I feel the need to give a small treatise on Chaos Magick as I see it. Here goes;

To me all gods are real. All of them. That each "god" is an essential quality boiled down to its energetic essence. If I say the words "Fire God" whatever pops into your head in response to that is your Fire God. You can attune yourself to the energy-type and essential quality of what you feel as you think and meditate upon that concept, that is your way to this god. Some of us draw symbols that focus us in a particular direction, or bring to mind that feeling that is called God. Sigils, runes etc, all are this way. To one person it could be artwork, to another a chant and to another it may be dance. It's all good.

Over time certain symbols, such as the Red Heart - you know <3 - become near-universal symbols, this one for love or affection. Some symbolism is more evocative to the populace at large than other triggers would be.

Chaos Magick is the art and science of finding the triggers that are right for you at this very moment in time and embracing them. Some may remain of import, others will be cast aside. The Chaos Mage does bind hirself to any symbol, remaining fluid in utilizing any tool that achieves the desired goal, at any given time. However over time the mage may find that certain symbols come up over and over, and begin to form a lasting dedication to the essence of that symbol and energy, divine or otherwise.

So right, potions. yuki_onna and I decided that intoxication before the trial begins is one of the more enduring pieces of rituals that focus on one person's journey. Now, we didn't want to get poor justbeast like totally wasted or he'd never get past the woods, let alone past his Guardian. So one of us came up with the idea of putting some alcohol into a potion bottle. Not too much, and we had to disguise the taste.

At this point I'd like to thank those tricky devils over at vodka_infusions seriously, you totally saved my ass on this one, thanks guys.

Since they're Dmitri's favorite fruit, Cat and I decided to go with sour cherries for the infusion that would become the potion. Well, the potionS (2), as we also decided that a choice early on in the ritual was needed in order to show that to embrace one thing, you must sometimes put aside another. In this case representing the new phase of life and the old. One green Potion, One Blue Potion. The power of spring, growth, new life, or the power of winter, open sacred places, the hearth, homecoming.

By the time the day arrived I had received many blessings, and been visited by many guiding spirits. One which informed me that it would protect Dmitri in the rite, and entered me for the duration. The time had come...
To be continued soon..

Hannuman Kills Again

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 19:23:33 GMT

The monkey god will get his sacrifices one way or another.

Being the Guardian - part 1

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 18:30:49 GMT

When yuki_onna asked me be the guardian at the threshold for this ceremony I had to accept. When she added that "unless he bleeds it isn't real" I started to regret saying yes.

I rarely speak about my actual Martial training as opposed to pontificating on my thoughts and views on the subject. Mostly this is because I've been extensively trained in lethal combat tactics as opposed to "passive restraint" and various more humane methods of fighting. I have never, to my knowledge, blocked a punch, for example. Oh I can't count the number of times I've stepped to an angle and counter-attacked, or simply even attacked the puncher's arm as it comes, but blocking? Huh, nope.

So I was faced with a big problem - how do I not kill him? And further, how do I still manage to make him bleed?

My areas of special expertise are Judo and Japanese (not Brazilan, there are differences) Jujutsu. In lay terms "throwing people onto their head/neck, and choking human beings til they stop moving". Not well-suited to ritualized combat, let alone one where your opponent is ultimately destined to win, unless he totally wimps out, and defeats himself.

Since my intended ~~victim~~ partner was justbeast I knew he wouldn't be wussing out. Frankly, if I had any inclination at all that he might not be made of hard enough things, I would have flatly refused the task.

Still I was left with a lot of questions about the nature of my own mastery of self, in terms of controlling without inflicting lasting harm. There are many situations in which I have been trained, over and over into the tens of thousands of repetitions, to utilize devastating knees to the head, bone breaking arm locks, or simple chokes. I knew that there was simply no way to undo all of that. And frankly, I don't think I'd want to completely negate it.

So I set about drawing up a plan of action for numerous common positions and replacing "pull guard, triangle choke" with more passive positional set ups and restraint techniques.

After what I would guess is about 60 hours of work and meditation on that, I felt confident that I could handle him without severe injury. Of course that still left the blood part. I didn't want to just pummel his face over and over, right? Right.

And I had other duties as well. There were potions to be made....
To be continued, soon...

thoughts I should not let out of my headbits

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 17:53:46 GMT

So while slaphappy, as I often am, I have these thought thingies. I should probably just keep to myself, but meh.

So anyway I was thinking about Buddha and Jesus being tempted in their respective deserts. And then I thought of Last Temptation of Christ, which I now SPOIL, so hit back or scroll by if you haven't seen it. So in Last Temptation the idea is put forth that the final temptation for Jesus is the temptation to settle down and lead a semi-normal life, rather than die there on the cross.

So, slaphappily* I daydreamed that in fact the final trial was not a temptation at all, but a freaky-Friday style soul-swap. See Jesus is all "I will return and have a second coming and stuff like that, because I quite obviously believe in reincarnation, see I said I was coming back, you caught that right? Right? um guys?" and Buddha is all "I will go out like a puff of smoke at the end of the candle and be forever removed from the wheel of reincarnation and karma, and merge with the all - i think that's called ascending to heaven, right? right?"

And well, there you have it. So now the Dalai Lama is really poor Jesus watching all his supposed followers take up this buddha dude's message, whilst he preaches to the "buddhists" who do actually seem to get the whole message of christ thing.

Why do I say this shit out loud? Oh well. No, right! To use that icon, obv.

I love new words, have you noticed?

The Life

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 04:06:27 GMT

See, I rarely get bored. I mean I should say I rarely remain bored for more than couple minutes at most. I have options. My choices are:
1) Do something
Now, doing something is the best and most obvious way to counter boredom. The trouble with this is that in order do something you must first come up with something to do. Drugs, for example. Anyway, not having any idea of what do to can often lead to the boredom itself - so watch out!

2) Get all pensive and figity and shit
Of course you may not be bored anymore and this could be the cocaine from number one kicking in. Just, you know, be mindful of that or something. Most people seem to react to boredom by making this choice, and without even putting any effort into coming up with something to do, it's so sad.

3) Become Slaphappy
I will admit a certain fondness for door number three. The third door leads to revelation.

And that is how I came to realize the true meaning of being a beer-battered enigma wrapped in a soft taco wrapped in a ______________________

Help me fill in the blank, won't you?

How's that boycott?

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 16:15:44 GMT

I'm underqualified for this meme

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 16:13:44 GMT

5251962 Says:
"Oooh, Oooh sitting here, I got an idea. Make me up a poem. Right now. Spur of the moment. I don't care who you are, if you are or are not actually on my friends list. If you see this, make up something.
Nobody's going to do this, are they?
PS: Before you ask, I don't care what it is about. Write about your keyboard for all I care. Roses are red, violent is a hue, I have a dog, her name is Max Moo. I don't care, just do it. :)"

Wellllllll ok. I'm no good at poems, but what the hell. I'm no good at Rock Band, either, and that didn't stop me.

Staring downward
Through the clouds
Tears mosh angrily
Splattered on concrete

It's raining
Swarm of gnats
A bee hive of crying
The child jumps

Puddle stomper, Tear crasher
Wet boots, all red
Floating ever forward
Anubis stays his whip.

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 03:18:48 GMT

Once Again

Fri, 11 Apr 2008 18:48:54 GMT

That award-winning yuki_onna struts her stuff, this time imploring you to strut yours.

It's just the thing I needed to read after glancing at a mirror after I ate lunch. That fucking eye-devil liar Anorexus, God of Body-Issues, spoke to me saying "next time eat half the sandwich, fatty." I didn't cry but I considered it. I am, still, considering it.

Anorexia is a war that I don't think ever ends, so I just fight each battle, each day. That's all you can do, right?

My dear friend, a woman whom I think of as a sister said she wanted to spend a whole day cooking for me, as an act of love. I appreciate the thought, though I tried to politely discourage her. Why? Because I hate eating. Because I hate myself every time I eat.

My wife, bless her (as she has blessed me), is a fantastic cook. She makes the simple act of eating a good thing, the tastes are wonderful. But then I feel full and that makes me feel full - of self-loathing.

Alright, I'm done considering. Anorexus, fuck you, you lying piece of shit. I Am Hot.

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 19:30:13 GMT

So a number of you bit me and attempted to make me join your various knightly or mob war cult/armies on Facebook. So how do I get back to that screen?

The Divine ...no not really

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 16:19:09 GMT

So, if Afflatus is a divine inspiration, which - according to the dictionary - it is, does that mean that saints and holy people have a bad case of Afflatulence?

Probabaly about waste length...

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 15:37:38 GMT

View Poll: Well should I?

I have to admit some fear about this

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 18:56:53 GMT

Alright. I know it is just karma for all the peer pressuring I've done over the years. So ok. I'm on your facebook now.

It's weird, because there's a lot of people on there I know (duh, right) but many of them....I don't really want to see or interact with like ever. And I admit a bit of worry about the people who are going to find me.

So obviously I had to sign up, because what the hell, Phobos, you are just a little bitch.

It's weird to see boarding school roommate from over a decade ago on there, not sure how I feel about it yet, what a strange little landscape.

How'd ya get that bruise?

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 14:31:09 GMT

So I was just chatting with my evil twin, as I often do, and he mentioned that a certain friend of his, who might or might not have a hammer in his pants right now, showed up to the bar after some Karate training. Well, he had bruises on his fingers from some sort of apparently crappy/self-injurious drill.

How the fucking hell do you bruise your fingers? I wondered, and, frankly, still do.

So that got me wondering about general silly injuries, because I love silliness and injuries alike.

I have such a long list of ridiculous injuries to choose from that it was hard, but I did pick my favorite stupid way that I've been hurt.

First an honorable mention. One day I was chasing my brother khiron1416 as he rode a bike down the street. Unfortunately, you see it was not actually his bike, merely a bike. And that bike had an owner that noticed it was missing, while khiron1416's bike was still there. So I was deployed to give chase. I'm running and running as fast as I could, and I almost reach him. I hold out my hand and start to shout that it isn't the right bike when *BLANG* I mashed my foot into a concrete uh...thing that I hadn't noticed, despite it being about as big as a semi. I broke two toes in a total of three places. Dumb.

But not as dumb as the time I got hurt playing soccer at boarding a school. It was the first day and everyone was introducing themselves by shouting out their name any time they made contact with the ball. Of course I saw an opportunity and just had to take it. As the ball's arc begen to crest so did mine and I pounded the ball with a flying headbutt - FOONT! GOOOOOOAAAAAALLL!!

Too bad for me that a flap of the ball's outer skin came loose as I collided with it, and that flap cut right into my cornea. Lamest goal ever. For future reference the eyeball is not a good choice for "point of impact" as you headbutt things. Which, I know you do. Don't lie, headbutter.

So what're your favorite dumb injuries?

No Longer

Mon, 07 Apr 2008 18:23:36 GMT

I am no longer Old School.

I am now Old Fangled. I get tired of new having a lock on fangled-ness. So screw you new-fangled modern things!

I am old fangled!

It has been a long day at work

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 21:50:54 GMT

I know it was long day because I just tried to run a credit card number on my adding machine.

Perhaps some sleep will help.

See, theferrett I beg to differ

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 17:22:03 GMT

Sometimes there IS another kind of surprise butt secks.