Es schneit, Liebchen, kommt hinein...

The snow is falling silently in flakes a thousand-fold.

Taste bitter defeat, my enemy, The Summer! Today officially ushers in a world of freezing white and dead things. Damn the delusions of warmer days to come, and damn the thought of redemption from Winters icy grip! A thick veil of crystalline powder will suffocate the dreaded heat. Let it be long before it may return. Long live the reign of Winter, shallow be my name.

I doubt that words can stem its tide, but who would be so bold?

A project lay ahead of me of wood and iron and blood. If ever there were three things that screamed out "Christmas" with the fullest of convictions, these would be those things. I have only 20 days to complete my task, and if my calculations have been accurate, it should be more than enough time. The intended recipient will hopefully be as enthused in receivership as I am in crafting said device. Let it be known that I endorse this project with all that I am.

For Winter brings about a change for each of us in turn

There is a young Spanish woman working at the Sbarros in Springfield Mall. Her mouth is the size of a grapefruit at least. She reminds me greatly of the aliens from Sesame Street who repeat phrases such as "Yip, yip, yip, book, book, book" ad nauseum. I like the aliens, I dislike her. She is a bitch with a large mouth. May she meet a similar fate as the bass with equal traits. That is all.

And most of all for me, you see, for I have now emerged.

RiXmas will be held in the month of February. A more precise date is coming. Please be patient, I am trying to accomodate everyone in the long run....but mostly me, since it is my holiday. Tom, Michael, Rick & Seth will be invited in turn, and whomever they choose to invite is fine upon approval. Rick has spoken.

Dein Blut auf meiner Haut... Sag "danke."

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Mörder (der) :: n :: Murderer

ohne :: adv :: without

Reue (die) :: n :: Remorse

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Have you seen this boy?

*Blogger deleted a rather lengthy and poetry laden post of mine before I could save it...this is the result. My apologies.

für Stuffi: "Stecken Sie es in Ihren Mund." ;)

"Trebuchet" ist die einzige Schriftart, die eine Festung zerstören kann

(die) Pechsträhne :: (n) :: A Streak of Bad Luck
(der) Verflucht :: (n) :: The Cursed
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Durch das Höllenfeuer und den Schwefel...
Christmas approaches post-haste. A miserable time of year with reflections of the joyous. If money makes the world go 'round, then the rotation during the months of November and December should catapult us into space. Is the look of joy and/or humorous disappointment on the recipients' face worth the quarter year of destitution to follow? I say "yes," but that is varied by the intended recipient.

...ein Schmetterling fliegt...
My demeanor hinges on boisterous with a touch of the slight, yet my conscious self is ever aware of the fabled "negative vibe." Perhaps it is so acute that I am able to dissect the negative from the intended positive. The matter at hand at that point would be which to cast aside and which to take to heart. Even the most profound compliment can have an undertone of hatred depending on the transmitters' perceived thoughts of the receiver. It is through this belief that my character has become as indelible as it has. Paradoxical is it may seem, I am fragile, yet indestructible.

...und lässt einem feurigen Nachlauf dahinter.
Artificial Intelligence is better viewed as a human trait. There are those that will horde knowledge of the seemingly archaic and less sought after knowledge in hopes to one day wow their cohorts with their inherent wisdom, whereas a prolonged conversation with such an individual can unravel their A.I. with startling proficiency. Eradication is an extreme answer to said problem, however I much prefer Education. Only a few minor letters separate death from enlightenment, remember that the next time you hold onto a single trivial fact of interest as an effector of possible friendship with those you deem intelligent. They will find out, and you will be judged.

...der Adler wartet in den Schatten.

~R

Probably why I like him so much...

You scored as Gambit. Gambit is another loner character. He loves Rogue. He has a very cool debonair personality. He's done things in his past that he's not proud of but he atones for his actions by fighting for peace with the X-Men. His weapon of choice is the playing card. Powers: Charges objects with kinetic energy by touching them, then they explode like grenades. Gambit 95% Emma Frost 85% Iceman 60% Wolverine 55% Jean Grey 50% Storm 45% Cyclops 45% Rogue 45% Colossus 30% Nightcrawler 30% Beast 25% Most Comprehensive X-Men Personality Quiz 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com

Jonathan Brandis

It was a sad day in 2003 when Jonathan Brandis shocked his adoring public by hanging himself. However, the truth of that sad day has never been brought to light due to a deep-rooted conspiracy. You see, Mr. Brandis' death was not in fact a squeaky clean suicide, but a cold-blooded murder. There were no signs of a struggle, and that means that it was done by someone he trusted. I am here to tell you who that someone is. First, ask yourself, who had the most to gain by Mr. Brandis' untimely demise? Who stood to acquire more wealth and power than ever he had before? Who knew him well enough to charm his way into Jonathan's house before committing the villainous deed. That's right...

Chuck Norris.

Chuck worked with Jonathan on a little movie some of you may remember called "Sidekicks." It was a fun, family-oriented coming of age tale wherein a boy uses martial arts to overcome his fear of man-love, or something. It was on the set of "Sidekicks" that Jonathan Brandis fell in love with Braddock, aka Chuck Norris. Who could blame him? For years Chuck had been jump-kicking for freedom in the deepest jungles of Saigon. Who can resist a martially equipped lethal instrument of justice? I'll tell you who can't. Jonathan Brandis.

Jonathan kept things quiet about their relationship, only briefly turning up in the spotlight again for SeaQuest and a myriad of terrible direct-to-video movies. Things seemed to be going great for Jonny boy despite his ailing career. That is, until Chuck realized that he wasn't gay. Things fell apart for Brandis one fateful day in December. From this day until the day of his death, Chuck would be forever Missing In Action from Jonathan's life.

Things remained quiet for a few years until Jonathan decided that he could overcome his loss and become a somebody again. He had one weapon that he felt would either launch his career or sink it forever. Needless to say, he was prepared to take the risk. That weapon was his affair with Chuck Norris. The National Enquirer was his intended audience. Jonathan made the phone calls, dressed in his Sunday Best and made some appearances about town. He was received with the expected luke warm greeting, but he didn't care, for this would all change in a matter of days.

The Enquirer decided to beef up it's article by phoning Mr. Norris direct to ask him to comment on the article. They felt this would be the extra "spice" that would knock the world on end. Mr. Norris didn't even answer their first question. He hung up the phone, put on his tanned duster and hopped in his black jeep-truck. His destination was clear, Brandis.

Chuck arrived at the Brandis Estate (read "trailer home") at 7:05 p.m. CST. He coerced his way inside by whispering sweet Nothings into the young actor's ear. As soon as he had entry, he coaxed Mr. Brandis into the bedroom. Thinking that this may be one last fling with Lone Wolf McQuade, Brandis eagerly accepted. As soon as he set foot into his very own room, Chuck unleashed a very forbidden form of jumpkick and knocked Jonathan's head clear off of his shoulders. Momentarily stunned, not by the murder, but by the fact that at 63 he still had what it took to go back into the Octagon, he then rounded up some rope, duct taped Brandis' head back to his neck and suspended him from the rafters.

The police show up, a little Hollywood Razzle-Dazzle and BAM, suicide. One cop claims to have seen Norris leaving the scene of the crime, but brushed it off because, hey, how could anyone who owns a jetpack be evil?

Beware my young, fledgling actors, of who you fall for. There are thousands of Chuck Norris's out there, and YOU could be the next Jonathan Brandis!

P.S. I went to the Smithsonian instead of going to the Renaissance Fair. It was fun.

Der Fußmarsch der Rotmützen

"New Clear Winter" :: My Film Company name. A logo is forthcoming.

This weekend is the Renaissance Festival. I will be attending with my cohorts Tom and Michael. This will only be my second year at said event, but I'm hoping that it will be a good time. We will probably not stay as long as Ariana & I did last year, mainly because I know I won't be buying anything other than the fantastic (Renaissance?) Pizza that I sampled on my prior visit. I'm hoping to run into Ariana and her friends at some point, but that's looking to be a negative since I plan on leaving hours in advance of them. Oh well, it should still be fun. Forsooth, huzzah and what-not.

I would very much enjoy a slice of pizza right now...

Echozeichen im Radarschirm ::ping::

Movie Night : 18.Oktober.05
Herr R berichtend an...

Tonight we embark on yet another less than spiritual journey into the realm of truly tasteless and ultimately talentless film. We've three "movies" on the docket, each sounding worse than the prior.

First up is "The Hollow," which stars Nick Carter, who I'm told is from one of the boy bands. My money is on N*Sync, and by money I mean not money at all, because I would never wager losing money on someone so ridiculous. The plot is supposed to be a __ years later tale of the town of Sleepy Hollow when the Headless Horsemen makes his return for the kin of Ichabod Crane. Not only does the plot sound contrived, but it made its debut on ABC Family, which never bodes well for a horror movie.

Average: There was a surprising amount of decapitation and (briefly) nipple for an ABC Family movie. This was the best of the three, without a doubt. Not only was superstar Nick Carter in the film, but also veterans like Stacy Keach and Judge Reinhold. The Headless Horsemen is tormenting the Crane line 50,000 years in the future. I'm not actually sure on that timeline, but Stacy Keach said that it had been 20 generations since the Horsemen nearly killed Johnny Depp. Since then, the Crane lineage got wiley and changed their last name to "Cranson" and then eventually "Cranston" (no word on a Lamont yet though). Nevermind the fact that the Horsemen wasn't technically hunting Ichabod Crane to begin with, now he's pissed and out for vengeance. He rides around with his pumpkin head and military sabre decapitating the hapless Nick Turturro and Stacy Keach. Judge Reinhold was attacked by the horsemen, but he must have been saved by Axel Foley or Beethoven's 5th in a cutscene, because he survives a sword attack without even a scratch. After a brief horsechase wherein the Horsemen's horses hooves were miked most intensely, our hero manages to parry-toss him onto the bridge he cannot touch (though it was the bridge he couldn't cross in the Irving tale). So obviously he bursts into flames. In closing, Nick Carter doesn't die, but he does wear shoulder pads throughout most of the film in a desperate attempt to look like a big badass onscreen. Also, someone compile a list on non-private Highschools that offer fencing as an elective, it's a good bet that they'll be the ones we need to turn to should the Horsemen extend his reign of pumpkin-tossing terror nationwide.

Second we have "Day of the Dead 2: Contagium." From what I gather after reading several plot synopses, this is a cash-in from the lucky bastard who managed to wrestle the rights of "Day of the Dead" from George A. Romero & co. Apparently they actually explain why the zombies are here, or more precisely, where they came from. Not that I was a big fan of the original Living Dead trilogy, but one of the things I always enjoyed about them was the relative ambiguity as to where these flesh-eating, walking corpses came from...and why. I'm sure the purists are screaming "sacrilege!" over this one, but that'll only last until "Day of the Dead 3: Bankrupt" comes out...

Awful: This movie takes place in 1968 for the first 10 minutes, then 2005 for the final hour:30+. For being a "sequel" to Day of the Dead," in which the world was more or less overrun by zombie hordes in the 1970's, people seemed shockingly unprepared for an outbreak of 20 or so undead. No attempt at an explanation for how we go from Day's missile silo to Day 2's mental institution, nor how the aforementioned zombie hordes were thwarted some 30 years ago. The explanation given for the current controlled outbreak of zombie-ism is contained in a little, green thermos that one of the mental patients opens. Upon doing so, he drops what would appear to be an alien suppository onto the ground. It releases what can only be described as zombie pixies, which in turn infect the 5 people crowding around the affected area. Upon "transformation" into the undead (which remarkably has similar symptoms to sleep deprivation and sunburn), the Infected 5 find themselves becoming a hive mind, or collective, if you will. They even feel the pain of the other. Why this was incorporated, I'll never know. I wanted to see zombies, not overwrought empaths. Two of the five super-zombie-empaths refuse to eat other people and begin working on a way to either find a cure, or at the very least stop the others, who have regressed into some sort of demon-zombie hybrid. The cure was simple enough, the male "good guy" zombie puts a gun in his teeth and pulls the trigger, thus effectively killing the other 4, including his girlfriend. Zombies escape, the threat begins anew, yadda-yadda.

Lastly, a movie that I'm not all that familar with before hand. It's called "Dark Harvest 2: ___________." There is a tagline meant for that blank, but I'll get to that in a minute. The company and I watched the original "Dark Harvest" some time ago, but for the life of me I can't remember a thing about it. All I know is that it entails teenagers and a killer scarecrow or two. The follow-up entails both of those things and adds one more item to the mix: a labyrinth. Where on earth one can still stumble upon a labyrinth is beyond me. Not since Minos have I heard mention of one, though I've heard David Bowie is proprietor of a magnificent specimen. Here is where the tagline comes in, and it's a mark of true genius. The movie is aptly titled, "Dark Harvest 2: The Maize." Brilliant...only Alan Smithee could think of such a poignant title.

Negative Awful: There was no scarecrow. There was no killing. There was no plot. A man has psychic visions in his home which happen to look like the "Ripple" special effect found on any PC movie editing program. From these ripples he sees his two daughters dying, or not dying, or, just standing around in a cornfield...I don't know. The whole movie was so terribly shot that the viewer can't tell what they may be looking at at any given time. So, our main character calls his wife, tells her to find the kids in the corn maze (they were there for Halloween), she can't, he rushes out of the house, gets to the cornfield, various shots of mud puddles, corn and waists ensue. It seems like hours until the main character does anything other than stumble around blindly in a clearly daylit CORN MAZE looking for his daughters. I just can't feel claustrophobic when I can not only see through the "walls," but trample them underfoot and make my way out. Unfortunately the two little girls didn't consider this as they ran for their lives around corners and into mud puddles aplenty. Luckily I had my finger on the Chapter Skip button. After about 3 hours of watching him bumble around like a twit (read "20 minutes"), I skipped ahead, more corn, I skipped again, more corn, again, corn, again, night corn, again, credits. No one died, no corn thresher was used on anyone, nothing. If you value your time spent, it is best spent far, far away from this movie. P.S. There was a scarecrow on the cover and on the DVD menu...that was 2 times as much scarecrow as there was in here.

::Endpunkt des Berichts::

der Gnadenstoß meiner Vergangenheit

...denn er lügt.

My mother leaves for the ever nearly tropical as of tomorrow morning. Hawaii her intended destination with a 3-hour stopover in Las Vegas. I'm sure she'll have fun, provided that the plane she's on doesn't go down in a flaming heap at any point. That tends to ruin any vacation almost immediately.

What that means to me, however, is one whole week without the bastard child of my cousin being at my house whining and wreaking general havoc. Christ do I hate that child. Where is that green fog from the biblical era when you need it? Come to think of it...nevermind, I'm a firstborn as well.

For those who may happen upon this pointless little blog that may also hold an interest for B-Movies, I highly recommend the recently released "Undead," which is from Australia. Zombies and aliens and an interesting plot (oh my!) all wrapped in a shiny yet stunningly gritty package. A must-see for any horror or horror-comedy fan. Yes, there are zombie fish...

In closing, death to my cousin's child...please come to him on swift wings.

...

Sie kennen mich nicht, aber das ist mir egal. Vielleicht kenne ich dich, vielleicht nicht. Vielleicht schreib' ich "vielleicht" mal wieder! :lächeln:

4 gestorben : 3 noch leben
Ihre Zeit rennt schnell...