“Oh, cool!” I say. “Can you make him hold a huge two-handed sword and wear a cloak with feathers all around the shoulders?”
“Of course,” Skúfr replies, pleased that he gets to show off a bit. I demonstrate the pose I want and the yeti obliges me, giving the snowman a nice mane of hair at my instruction, including a lock that droops fetchingly in front of one eye. He even creates eyebrows and a thin blue frosty beard that hugs the jawline.
“Can you write something for me on the ground in frost letters, but using English?” I ask him.
“If you trace it out, I will do so.”
I scrawl a phrase in front of the snowman’s feet, then back away as Skúfr changes it to blue ice and fills in my foot and handprints, smoothing out the surface of the snow.
“Oh, that’s perfect! I love it!” My cell phone’s battery is long dead, so I haven’t a prayer of capturing an image. “I wish I had a camera. I want a picture of me talking to him.”
“Does he represent someone you know?” Ísólfr asks.
“No, he represents a character from one of my favorite stories. A handsome fictional man. On several occasions, a beautiful redhead tells him what I have written there.”
“What do the words say?”
“They say, ‘You know nothing, Jon Snow.’ ”—Kevin Hearne
“Iron Druid Chronicles 07 - Shattered”
““I have been around long enough to discount most superstitions for what they are: I was around when many of them began to take root, after all. But one superstition to which I happen to subscribe is that bad juju comes in threes. The saying in my time was, “Storm clouds are thrice cursed,” but I can’t talk like that and expect people to believe I’m a twenty-one-year-old American. I have to say things like, “Shit happens, man.””—Hearne, Kevin. “Iron Druid Chronicles 01 - Hounded.
"It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise," Talisid said. We were standing a little way to the side, watching from a distance, each of us holding a glass of wine. "You’re acquiring something of a reputation."
"I didn’t say it was a good reputation," Talisid said dryly. "You’re now suspected of having a hand in the disappearance of two separate Light mages. With good reason, I might add."
"I could say they started it."
"Somehow I don’t think that would help very much."
”—Cursed: An Alex Verus Novel
Benedict Jacka (2012)
“"Okay, so. Introductions. Luna, this is Meredith, a mage. Meredith, this is Luna, my apprentice. Luna, this is Bob the Dead Construct. Bob, meet Luna. So now we all know each other."
Okay, so social graces aren’t my strong point. Hey, you try to come up with a polite way of introducing an apprentice, a mage, and a dead body.”—Cursed: An Alex Verus Novel
Benedict Jacka (2012)
“I heard you and you can rest assured I took it to heart. I realize now that we went too far with this aggressive approach…”—Specialized founder Mike Sinyard, who was apparently lying his ass off. (via cyclocosm)
[Trailwalker] Today I’m hoping to raise $250 for Oxfam Trailwalker!
I’m walking 100km in Oxfam Trailwalker Melbourne, 2 – 4 May 2014, to challenge myself and fight poverty around the world. Today I’m hoping to raise $250 for Oxfam Trailwalker which will be enough money to provide orphaned and vulnerable children and their families with nourishing meals for a whole month at a South African crèche.
I’m contacting you and asking you to support my 100km challenge and Oxfam by donating to my team.
Here are some brief points on the economics of for-profit start up publications.
There are a great number of them that are in profit. They exist to make money. They are not an altruistic project enamoured of the public good. They have boards, they have CEOs drawing large salaries, they have full…
Today I got banned for 12 hours from Facebook. It’s not the end of the world (I think it helped my productivity) but I figured it would be worth discussing because of the context of the ban. So here goes.
Last June I made this comic:
Definitely not the most shocking thing we’ve done at…
“* Hassan … The Golden Journey to Samarkand *
Go as a pilgrim and seek out danger
Far from comfort and the well lit-avenues of life.
Pit your very soul against the unknown
And seek stimulation in the company of the brave.
Experience cold and hunger, heat and thirst
And survive to see another challenge and another dawn.
Only then will you be at peace with yourself
And able to know and to say:
“I looked down on the farthest side of the mountain
And, fulfilled and understanding all, I am truly content
That I lived a full life
And one that was of my own choice”.”—James Elroy Flecker
“We came to the junction of the Yarra and Gardiner’s Creek. The confluence was hidden under a giant freeway bridge - it was a cave of echoes, the river threw dancing shadows, and a grid of stone paved the edges of Birrarung. From my research I’d gathered that the junction is approximately the furthest reach of Bunerong tribal land; from onward of the watery meeting place, both sides of the Yarra are Wurundjeri country. I grew up downstream from that place, crossing the river back and forth from my mum’s house to my dad’s, and I thought of how my cultural territory of the inner city seemed to reflect the ancient tribal boundaries between Wurundjeri and Bunerong lands. Friends often spoke of being ‘north of the river’ or ‘south of the river’ people, and I hear folk say of the river that it is hard to cross, as if there were a border between these lands. As if the Yarra wasn’t criss-crossed with bridges! It feels sometimes as if an old cultural way is persisting, despite so much change.”—Maya Ward - The Comfort of the Water