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Dear Moving Thread - I found out today that every single spam mail I have ever received was actually some sort of crypto-mnemonic note to myself which I wrote and sent while I was drunk, sleeping or in comparably altered states of mind. I found traces of spam emails in every text I have written, from personal notes to love letters, poems, invoices and academic papers, and finally even posts in this very forum! I am slowly starting to suspect that everything I have ever thought and bothered to write down on any kind of digital device with access to the internet has been chopped to bits and sent to the uncountable number of email addresses of an uncountable number of identities I have created while writing spam emails, only I have not been able to reconstruct them all from the senders and CCs in the emails I have received in the accounts I have regular access to.

Dear Moving Thread...should I turn to purely paper based text work? Or should I abandon all text and shift my activities to the acoustic domain? Or will this provoke spam calls on my cell phone?

Dear Moving Thread, maybe it is time to move on.

Will there be...industry-financed leisure trips to Cuba?

Man, remember us when you're sitting in your huge office at the Sierra2 headquarters being illustrative, important, influentual and the "putting letters in ascending alphabetical order after the letter I and using those two letters two choose which word I am going to describe the future Eggie" pattern breaks down there unless I am willing to stoop to "ionian" "ionic" or "ionized" all of which would make me sound like a nerd. I heard a dog burp the other day and it sounded human. At some point this post had a point.

Um... hooray for more adventures games. This post is on topic.

A ranch boy is gifted with a colt, grows to love him but the colt escapes, with tragic results. The action begins when Mr. Tiflin gives his son Jody a red pony colt. After falling asleep, Jody dreams of increasingly powerful winds and wakes up to see that the pony is gone. Jody is told by his father that he will be allowed to ride the horse by Thanksgiving. In the night, Jody becomes sleepy in spite of his constant worry and drifts off to sleep, forgetting about the open barn door. After several weeks of training, Jody gets bored. He looks with longing at the great mountains, wishing he could explore them. The morning after his arrival, Carl complains about Grandfather's stories at the breakfast table. The story overall deals with ideas regarding the infallibilities of adults and the entrance into manhood.




P.S.: Andromeda, isn't that some sort of galaxy, or a planet or at least some spiral nebula in outer space (outer space defining every space which is not earth)? Are those guys really aliens?

Haha, Dirk, this is awesome! I have a heavy old VHS recorder from the late 70s, with a tough steel case and all sorts of useless LEDs and buttons, lying around in pieces at home, it even fits a reasonably big mainboard. Plus the cassette slot can hold a DVD drive easily, I just had to make some space in the front cover plate. I've been wanting to make a desktop-style computer out of this for such a long time but never got around to finishing it...

Your project on the other hand looks so great, I am sure the removed C16 will find comfort in the fact that this has turned out absolutely beautiful. So, I'm all for implanting!

Dear Moving Thread,

I...I just don't know how to put this. I mean, I really wanted to avoid this situation, but now that it is here, I see myself unable to even remember the times before it arrived. Things have changed, and I am not entirely sure whether they are things anymore or just objects. All of it happened so suddenly, and as you know, I am not the most quick-witted guy there is, so I just stumbled right into it. Kierkegaard once said that you can only understand life looking back, but only live it looking forward - but ever since this has happened to me, I cannot seem to understand the meaning of this anymore, and I am pretty sure I am doing it the other way round. Or have been doing it the other way round ever since the day the whole thing came crashing down on me, which probably wasn't even a day but rather something in between days, or even in between years. Everything used to be so clear to me, so perfectly lucent, so astonishingly simple in its sheer existence.

The most troublesome fact about it all is that I don't even know if it happened - or if it really did happen, what it was. Or if what happened was something happening, or rather the mere premonition of something probably nonexistent, but to some degree likely to happen? I know that I didn't feel anything happening while it was supposedly happening, but now I am not so sure.

Dear Moving Thread, maybe it is time to move on?

Yup, thanks WHAM. And thank you for adding in my comments! Now Ben has to sit through the video and follow either what's happening in the game, what you are talking about at that moment or what I wrote in my comments, and then write comments himself - what a lovely way to spend an extended afternoon!

Captain D is actually only First Lieutenant D. And by "First Lieutenant", I mean "Ocean Spirit".

Ishmael, among others, suggested to de-clutter the awards channel from clapping.

I am sure there was a very good reason for this, I just wanted to express my "hot damn I'm late for the party and there's dead people in my cake"-feeling I got when I joined the channel, haha.


EDIT: That 'haha' was meant to imply that I'm not putting anyone to shame, because I arrived so late, not to laugh at de-cluttering things, or dead people in cakes!

[completely prohibiting]

Hooray for all the winners and hooray for the best music award for ~airwave~, and boo to .rar files and Linux netbooks and for arriving just in time for Dualnames completely prohibiting any kind of clapping whatsoever, haha. 

Pretty interesting, so to speak. I mean, perfectly idiosyncratic somehow. Paint me interested, son!

What is love?

Love is...beautiful!


P.S.: Gender segregation has got a lot to do with the genealogy of modern societies, the gender-stereotypical functions assigned to their identifiable members of either one and the fundamental insecurity caused by a destabilization of the latter.

You know, bathroom stalls are a perfect example: Why the hell do women have to identify with the symbol of a triangularly shaped person, obviously wearing a dress or some sort of traditional triangular robe, while men wear trousers? Why is a dress perceived as "female", when it's just a piece of cloth covering any body in pretty much the same way (if you set aside anatomical differences)? Probably the same reason why there is a pink Playstation 2, which I am so going to buy off ebay as soon as possible.

The F. in F. Scott Fitzgerald actually stands for "Fitzgerald". Also, Sephiroth does not know how to operate a typewriter with colour ribbon with one hand tied behind his back.

Ah, nicknames! Ghost is actually the contraction of "Gameshow Host"!

What's green and stands in a forest?

Spoiler

A red bicycle.

[close]

Your cups look fantastic, Mad! 

Not sure if this is my browser (Mozilla 11) or the forums, but the category path links have stopped working (as in  AGS Forums » AGS Development » Bug Reports & Site / Forum Reports)

Haha, centered text!  - and at least Larry is still here!

But the design looks great, clean and stylish. Hello, new forum!

Hey, that's actually a great idea! Synthesize the blue cup and adventure game / AGS game characters!


I request a Nellie Cootalot cup!

Ain't no better way to show people you're not a cold bi*** than whooping their 2D derrières! Good luck with this!

[The Gambler]

Oh, books! I also read them!

There are so many interesting suggestions in here! I haven't read a single, really, not one single book of the ones you mentioned. I did read The Gambler by Dostoevsky many years ago, and some Haruki Murakami books I found at the local dump (they weren't that bad), and I know Terry Pratchett exists. And I think I must have read I Spit On Your Graves by Boris Vian, only my copy was in French and my French is not very good. I did get and like the notion of a fake America, built from collective media memory like films and music, though.

I got an ebook reader about a year ago, and ever since then I've been reading a lot of badly formatted and sloppily OCR-scanned pdf copies of the great works of fiction. I just finished Italo Calvino's Castle of Crossed Destinies, which is an amazing collection of metafiction about the act of narrating. Before that, I read the second part of John Updike's Rabbit Tetralogy, a really, really intense book. I had read the first part some years ago and just discovered that Updike wrote one book at each turn of the decade, starting in 1960, and let his characters age in real time, which seems absolutely fascinating to me. It's as much an exercise in writing as it is a part of (fictional) cultural memory, totally embedded in the history of the US.

At the moment I'm reading Post Office by Charles Bukowski, which is great if you like Charles Bukowski, and not really great if you're sitting on a crowded bus with a headache. I have it in pdf form on my ebook reader, which is probably the lousiest way ever to read Charles Bukowski. In case of sudden battery death (which happens all the time and makes me want to break the reader in half, bring it back to the store and say "I only wanted to turn the page!"), I carry The Voices of Marrakesh by Elias Canetti in paper form. It oscillates between beautifully described literary snapshots of the city and moments of unbearable postcolonial gaze upon the "totally foreign and uncomprehensible" people. Like, a black coal vendor standing in front of his coal and you can only make out the eyes. Geez, and that guy was awarded the literary nobel prize?