Andrew Moore's Blog, page 118
July 1, 2022
Now That This Is a James Bond Fanblog
Hey how about that latest James Bond news? That there isn't going to be any? What do you think about the fact that it takes them longer not to make a movie than it used to take to make one? That they take three times as long to make products that are zero point eight two times as good? That nearly the entire entertainment industry has suffered some kind of silent cataclysm and can't get it together? They can't even make Star Wars games, and Amazon accidentally gave hundreds of millions of dollars to a couple nobodies to make Silmarillion fanfiction. What happened?
June 30, 2022
Addendum
Of course that was just a wild example. Nico is nobody's favorite Love Live.
June 29, 2022
The Problem with Literature As It Stands
It's really hard to sell DLC for it. There are atlases and occasionally revised editions, but that doesn't get the job done. How can we fix this? Pay $4.99 to add your favorite Love Lives to a book?
"The townsfolk gave Garid directions" becomes "Nico Yazawa gave Garid directions." What would you pay for that?
"The townsfolk gave Garid directions" becomes "Nico Yazawa gave Garid directions." What would you pay for that?
June 28, 2022
Addendum
However, fire is not a skelemental element. Bone, chitin, skeletronic particles. That's about it.
June 27, 2022
Let's Take the Temperature
Cold: Elemental
Hot: Skelemental
Hot: Skelemental
The Munificence of the Heavens Is Without Limit
"When the orange moon fills Syevor Pond, you will fill the position you desire." That was the claim. Mr. A, as we shall call him, did not believe in superstition, but he believed very much in filling positions. As a consequence, he informed his secretary and his associates he had decided to take a few days off ("So soon before the chancellorship is decided? He must be confident."), planned his trip, and traveled to the town nearest Syevor Pond, which of course was called Nyaddavar.
Mr. A had his doubts when he crept through the concealing night toward the pond. Where was everybody? Was that not a widespread belief he had heard? The orange moon was full, and as for the brown and green moons, they were probably lucky too. But he was all alone as he divested himself of anything better off dry and walked into the pond.
He waded into the center of the pond, the blue waters turned orange by the looming moon, where he became embarrassed. Who else was there but Mr. B and Mr. C, his rivals for the desired position? The three pretended not to recognize one another while elbowing and shoving for that coveted spot in the center of the moon as it was reflected.
"Ahem," Mr. A said. "Gentlemen, this silliness is beneath us. Above our toes possibly, but otherwise beneath us. This superstition is nothing but, well, superstition. The same future cannot come true for everyone at once. Imagine if there were twenty of us in this pond. Or twenty-one! Hmph." Mr. B and Mr. C agreed, though their elbows had reservations. In any case, the night passed amicably enough despite the obstacles to it, and all three returned from their vacations rested, ready, and biting their nails.
Mr. A got the job. Hurray! So much for orange moons and ponds, he thought until he heard Mr. B had an offer from Nmeleurda, which was looking for a chancellor, and Mr. C from Mden Fdan, which suffered from an urgent need for the same. All three became chancellors just as the superstition said, and all three broke out in hives for five days for doubting it. Because every superstition is always true, even if it that is impossible.
Finis
Mr. A had his doubts when he crept through the concealing night toward the pond. Where was everybody? Was that not a widespread belief he had heard? The orange moon was full, and as for the brown and green moons, they were probably lucky too. But he was all alone as he divested himself of anything better off dry and walked into the pond.
He waded into the center of the pond, the blue waters turned orange by the looming moon, where he became embarrassed. Who else was there but Mr. B and Mr. C, his rivals for the desired position? The three pretended not to recognize one another while elbowing and shoving for that coveted spot in the center of the moon as it was reflected.
"Ahem," Mr. A said. "Gentlemen, this silliness is beneath us. Above our toes possibly, but otherwise beneath us. This superstition is nothing but, well, superstition. The same future cannot come true for everyone at once. Imagine if there were twenty of us in this pond. Or twenty-one! Hmph." Mr. B and Mr. C agreed, though their elbows had reservations. In any case, the night passed amicably enough despite the obstacles to it, and all three returned from their vacations rested, ready, and biting their nails.
Mr. A got the job. Hurray! So much for orange moons and ponds, he thought until he heard Mr. B had an offer from Nmeleurda, which was looking for a chancellor, and Mr. C from Mden Fdan, which suffered from an urgent need for the same. All three became chancellors just as the superstition said, and all three broke out in hives for five days for doubting it. Because every superstition is always true, even if it that is impossible.
Finis
June 26, 2022
Addendum
I would have gone with Three Nopes, but I think that usage of "nope" is already dead. And Three Copes doesn't make sense if you think about it, which I know we all prefer not to.
June 24, 2022
Joke Corner
Fire Emblem Three Hopes? More like Fire Emblem Tree Ropes! For tire swings! I don't know. I'm just trying to manipulate search engine results.
June 23, 2022
More Food for Thought
If paladins keep falling, why do the gods keep making them?
June 22, 2022
Food for Thought
If casters are so much stronger than martials, why don't they so much as exist?
