Monday, 27 October 2008

Dinner Schedule

I was thinking recently that I should be very grateful to be among the few in this world who gets to eat three square meals a day. But then I realized that I actually don't.

Monday: breakfast, supper
Tuesday: breakfast, supper
Wednesday: breakfast
Thursday: breakfast, late supper
Friday: breakfast, sometimes a late supper
Saturday: breakfast, supper
Sunday: breakfast, lunch

There's some snacking throughout the day, of course, and on Sundays I guess you could say I have a snack-like supper. And I occasionally purchase a lunch on Wednesday, or at least consume a considerable number of snacks. But still. I rarely eat an official three meals a day.

Naturally, however, this is due to school and work scheduling, and not to lack of resources or poverty, so I have nothing to complain about.

"Those who forget the pasta are condemned to reheat it." Anonymous

Wednesday, 22 October 2008

I Should Get a Nobel For This

Apparently the most commonly used perspective when dealing with abnormal psychological problems is the "biopsychosocial" approach. I suppose that a biological perspective wasn't good enough, nor a psychological one, even when tempered with a sociological flavour, so someone just shmooshed them all together and acted like it was something unique.

I'm ahead of the game. I hereby dub the approach I shall use the


approach, which successfully integrates biology, psychology, sociology, archaeology, lexicology, etymology, geology, ecology, demonology, environmentology, taxology, astrology, meteorology, sexology, ontology, and phenomenology. Ha!

Anyways, I was wondering why, if there are Epipens for people with allergies, there aren't Benzopens for people suffering from panic attacks?

"Be what you would seem to be - or, if you'd like it put more simply - never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise." Lewis Carrol

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

For My Brother

My brother and I were discussing this the other day. How on earth ARE those little vulneraries and elixirs from Fire Emblem supposed to work?

* * * * *
Doctor's Orders

One day, in the midst of a terrible battle, Prince Ephraim and Lord Hector, through some twisted series of events, were fighting side-by-side to destroy a horde of flesh-hungry gwyllgis and wyverns.

Ephraim spun Reginleif around like nobody's business, coolly goring the heart of first one creature then the next. Hector was laughing at the shrieks the monsters made as they saw his glinting Wolf Beil come crashing towards them.

All was well. But then, disaster. A freak ballista shot impaled Ephraim's arm, and a rock falling from the sky (presumably it had been lodged in Huey's hoof) hit Hector in the forehead. Naturally, as Hector had a very thick skull, it didn't do much damage, but it was rather ugly and caused a small amount of bleeding. Ephraim wasn't bleeding much, either, because the arrow was still stuck in his arm.

"Owee, mama!" Hector shouted, picking the rock out of his head as Ephraim finished the last wyvern with a swift kick to the jaw. "Good thing we have that healing elixir, here, hey Prince?"

Ephraim glanced in his satchel. Indeed, they had one full elixir between them, which was plenty given the circumstance. He used his uninjured arm to pull the vial of sparkling blue liquid out of the bag.

"I suppose since my injury is the worse of the two, I should go first," said Ephraim.

Hector grumbled but agreed. He pulled the arrow out of Ephraim's arm, which caused the young prince to yelp rather unmasculine-like and to shoot Hector a dark glare. Eventually, though, the prince turned his attention to the matter at hand and looked back at the blue vial. "Erm, I've never actually had to use one of these things before," he said. "Am I supposed to drink it, or am I supposed to pour it over my wound?"

Hector scratched his brow and winced. If his forehead hadn't been bleeding before, it was now. "Actually, I don't know, either. I've never been hurt before."

"Do you think it will kill us we use it incorrectly?" Ephraim asked.

"Probably not," said Hector, so Ephraim wisely chose to believe the opposite.

"If I pour it on my wound, then most of it will just leak away," he mused. "But if I drink it, then how does it know where to work?"

"If it tastes awful, you're probably meant to drink it," said Hector with a grimace, remembering the awful tonics Serra had forced Matthew to drink when the thief had gotten his arm stuck trying to retrieve a lockpick from Umbriel's mouth.

Ephraim shrugged and sniffed it. It smelled sweet. "Maybe we should just go find a healer really quickly and ask," he said.

"We left all the healers behind," said Hector. "Remember? Figured we wouldn't need them because we have these elixirs."

"Oh yeah," said Ephraim, starting to feel very woozy. "I think I'm going to sit down for a moment."

"Maybe we should test it on something," said Hector. "Here, give it to me." He took the elixir from Ephraim and strode over to a writhing gwyllgi that obviously wasn't quite dead. "Drink this," he said, pouring one third of the liquid down the gwyllgi's throat. The gwyllgi stopped writhing. "Oh, good, it worked," Hector declared. No sooner had he made the proclaimation than the reptile let out a deafening screech. Syrup-thick blood bubbled out of its mouth and its eyes went blank, the entire creature freezing into an unbecoming dead bug position. Hector hacked off its head just to be sure.

"It's dead," said Hector. "I'm not certified in hocus-pocus healing, but either elixirs don't work on gwyllgis, or we're not supposed to drink it."

"Which... do you... think?" Ephraim grunted, trying to tie a tourniquet around him arm.

"We could try it on something else," said Hector, "and see if the death thing is a general phenomon when this stuff is swallowed."

"Then we won't have enough left for us," Ephraim murmured, his voice growing fainter as his face grew paler. "I think... we're not supposed to drink it. I don't know how the elixir would.... know what blood... it was supposed to clot, and so would just clot everything and ...kill you. I think the arrow must have hit an important artery. I'm going to lie down now."

"Hmm. Well, that makes sense. Pour it on it is, then." Hector grabbed Ephraim's arm and was about to pour half of the remaining liquid on the noble's wound when he remembered something. "Didn't Natasha use an elixir when Forde's kidneys got crushed when Bartre hugged him hello?"

"Yeah..." Ephraim was lying on his back, eyes closed.

"How could you pour an elixir on crushed kidneys?" He wiped some blood off his forehead and flicked it off his wrist. He was starting to get a little woozy as well.

"Maybe it wasn't an elixir she gave him after all," suggested Ephraim, eyes still closed.

"I think it was," said Hector. "I mean, this stuff is a cure-all for, well, all... except poison. I wonder if it's habit forming?"

"Are there any instructions printed on the container?" said Ephraim, voice barely audible.

"I'll check." Alas, there were no instructions. "Boy, that's dumb," said Hector. "How would we even know the difference between an elixir and a spy's sleeping potion?"

It was about now that Ephraim passed out. Hector thought about the elixir a while longer before finally deciding to pour half a dose on Ephraim's arm, and then make him swallow the rest if that didn't appear to help anything.

Unfortunately, by this point Hector had also lost too much blood so he keeled over as he stumbled towards Ephraim, and landed unconscious with a whump on the ground.

Farina spied them from atop her pegasus nearly twenty minutes later. "Dumb boys, bleeding to death," she muttered to herself. "Two full uses of magical elixir left, and they're both too manly to use it. Serves them right." She swooped down, picked up the elixir, and returned to camp to report the location of the missing lords.

Needless to say, Princess Eirika made hocus-pocus healing certification a mandatory requirement for anyone joining the army after that.

* * * * *

"For those whose reasoning is bent, I shall straighten it with my bow" - Rath from Fire Emblem 7

Wednesday, 15 October 2008

I'm All Over the Place

But currently sitting around at the uni.

Wow... eleven days since I last updated, and apart from proudly announcing that Stephen Harper is once again Prime Minister, and that Alberta is only one seat short of being entirely Conservative, I don't have much to report. Unless you wanted to know my current grades in school, which would mean you're either family or have no life.

Actually, I guess that's not quite all I have to report. My sister is now officially graduated, and it was good to visit with extended family over Thanksgiving. Gabriella is so stinking cute! The game of football with just me and my sister and... what was it, fourteen guys... was more embarrassing than it was anything else, though I do pride myself for the one tag I made that saved my team from an even more humiliating defeat.

I've been asking a lot of questions recently. Questions like "Why are they called midterms when they extend throughout the entire semester?" and "What's a caucus and how do you spell it?" Also, "How do you pronounce 'Sikh'?" "Would getting a tattoo on my ankle cause me grief later in life if I try to do missionary work?" "What's the difference between blind faith, 'good' faith, and rational belief?" "Why don't most people my age vote?" "Who gave the okay to put Vista on the market, and where does he live?" "Does anyone else in university think Freud was a fruitcake?" "Is hypnotism dangerous spiritually?" "How can the transit train be so full after only two stops?" "Is it even possible to beat Fire Emblem 6 hard mode without cheating?" and, perhaps most importantly as I'm being graded on this one: "Do music videos released between the years 2003-2008 inclusive show more religious images than music videos released between the years 1993-1998 inclusive?"

Anyways, looking back at some of my former posts, I've noticed that in many of my earlier posts I was expressing my opinion on something. Recently I've been mostly asking questions. So instead of another question I shall state an opinion here: King Baldwin the Fourth of Jerusalem was a respectable guy. If I got to have dinner with five dead guys, I think the current guest list would include C.S. Lewis, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Winston Churchill, Sophie Scholl, and King Baldwin. Actually, talking to Moses or Elijah or Ezekiel would be pretty cool, too.

As an aside, one of my profs mentioned that the polls proclaiming Obama and McCain to be in dead heat are probably quite wrong. The only people polled are people with landlines. There are record numbers of registered young voters with only cells and no landlines. The "young people" demographic tends to support Obama, so Obama's probably doing better than the polls show. Makes sense to me.

It is the nature, and the advantage, of strong people that they can bring out the crucial questions and form a clear opinion about them. The weak always have to decide between alternatives that are not their own.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Friday, 3 October 2008

Elections for Dummies

I'm getting kind of excited because I get to vote in my first federal election on the 14th. I'm not too excited about the advertisements on display by Elections Canada, however. I am officially unexcited enough to write the local newspaper about it. I don't know whether it'll get published or not, but just in case it doesn't, I'll publish it here, too.

"I'm not sure when billboards with cursing on them became acceptable and I'm both disgusted and surprised that the Canadian government thinks it is. I have seen several of the “Just Vote Dammit” ads set up in and around the C-train stations, visible not only to people who think it's hip and cool to use foul language, but also to families and children and other people who would rather not be exposed to such tastelessness. I know that ads must relate to their target group – which I'm assuming in this case is post-secondary students – but if all the ads relate to is our perceived collective immaturity, then I'm not sure why the government would expect us to make mature choices concerning whom we decide to vote for. Respectable citizens will vote, and the government should encourage that in respectable ways."

Thus it endeth. I mean, I know that Alberta has the lowest young voter turnout of the country, and that's not a point of provincial pride. But if people are stupid and lazy enough that they don't want to use twenty minutes of their time to vote, then if by some miracle they actually do vote (due to the cursing, presumably), I really doubt they're going to be the type of person who's going to vote the way I want them to.

“Alright guys, I want to get out there and vote tomorrow. And not because it's cool, because it's not. You know what is cool? Smoking. Smoke while you vote.” Jon Stewart