Splinter Cell Come Fourth

Wicked.

I cannot wait to immerse myself in the pants, er, place of Sam Fisher. And in the question of morality, I am most certain he should be allowed to teeter on the edge. Who wants a bloody do-gooder all the time? I certainly hated myself for being that, how long ago that person died and such a tragic demise for her it was.

Splinter Cell : Double Agent


"You have no idea what's coming..."

And all that stupid speculation by the idiots (repugnant lot, some of them) on the Ubi boards never fails to amuse the addled brain. What I mean is why create and build up upon something that cannot be quite confirmed, and then eventually crush youselves with sheer disappointment. Such creativity wasted indeed when they could be working in refuse disposal instead.

And in other news, a cousin of mine has been accepted to earn his PhD. Oh, joy. That leaves me nowhere. I suppose I am so comfortable with disappointment it feels like nothing more than a little prick on a chopped off finger.

Expect nothing more and everything less. Lyne out.

I like sheep... I guess...

Now sheep, ovine, fleecy thingies on fours, whatever they are called. They sure are loveable, maybe because of their wanting to be led? How they bleat in their flocks of winter's wool...?

Nah. Hogwash.

But there is always the symbolism of lambs especially in the case of religion. And these fellows below have it in their song...

The Whiffenpoofs



Anyway, I adore The Whiffenpoofs, even if the seniors switch about. I was just thinking about... The West Wing. (Damn! There I go again all weepy and what-not.) It was lovely to see them for the first time, singing Christmas carols and a capella always tugs at my heart if you get them onto those lovely sentimental numbers.

Baa Baa Baa.
Amen.

Not the Leo...

At least, I don't mean Di (Who is a Leo by the way).

A strange turn of events, the reel life reflecting the real life. Here we have Leo McGarry having a cardiac arrest in Camp David ...and lived. However, John Spencer wasn't that lucky. Now that I think I about it -- after spending a considerable amount of time being sad -- his role might no longer be Chief of Staff, I suppose his voice of wisdom will be there for the last 365. Figuratively speaking. Does it herald The West Wing's End already?


John Spencer
1946 - 2005
I'll miss you old boy. Along with everyone else who loves a crotchety old fuddy duddy.
R.I.P.

And if anyone thinks that directly means "Rest in Peace" I have half a heart to rip your head off. Ping out.

Writer's Bloc, er, Block

Damn. Damn. Damn.

All right, the reason for all this frustration stems from the fact that I find myself walking around in my circles in my life. Or maybe backwards even. As the holidays shift into overdrive and the whoop-dee-fucking-doo spirit draws ever so close, I get into this phenomenally foul mood rivalling the definition of sourpuss.

And there is that be-damned John Lennon Christmas ditty.

Funny, I made no progress or so it feels. Therapist says to acknowledge the little things, people around me go jet-setting, relatives hitting the high points in their lives and yet... Bah, no point dwelling in Loserville.

Welcome to my life. Lucked out.

Speak in your corner?

Singapore. Just watched a documentary of it. Not too bad really. You foreigners have your views and we have ours, so shut your trap and live with it. In this case, I will state this as a freedom of speech and a basic human right to live as an individual not conforming to being anything else other than another co-existing sentient... At least I do know that the "White Hair" looks frighteningly similar to a Korean dude.

I just found a use for the local [supposed] "Speaker's Corner", and sadly politics would not be the reason. And what exactly led me up to this? Imagine a presidential candidate-wannabe talking -- or yelling by the looks of it -- to no one but the open field before his eyes. Sounds like a dream come true for me who practically loves to gussy up in front of an imaginary crowd of spectators and then goofing it all up with a slip up or two.

Why, I could pull a Richard Burton or even a MacBeth moment. Or even share my views on how terrorism has changed our way or life... oh, wait a minute. Sounds like there is some ambition after all. Hmm.