*Doubletake*

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I was out visiting a friend today. He is a fellow role-player and world-creator. He asked me what was the words on my cap. Ill Bethisad, which means ‘The Universe’ in Brithenig and is the alternative timeline and shared world project in which my imaginary language Brithenig and its speakers co-exist. The odd thing is that I put a folder of Brithenig links on his browser and he has not looked at any of it. WaTooF! The best place to start delving into Ill Bethisad is at the IBWiki, the authoritative commentary of that timeline. Maybe I should use his role-playing system to create an adventure *there*. I’ll see.

Three consecutive entries in three days! Can I keep up the impetus? Depends what happens tomorrow.

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Darn!

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I stopped for pizza from Hell for tea tonight and read their notice that said that their pizza token deal finishes at the end of the year. This is a shame as I have a jar of them on the kitchen windowsill and I’m not likely to go in again before then. They will give $1 off one pizza per purchase for every token returned to them before then.

‘Tis the Season to be Silly, tra la la la….

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To make up for a mediocre Christmas, IMHO, I took my Birthday and Christmas money from my aunt down to the Dunedin Art Gallery and bought the Jesus the Little Thinker doll of the Unemployed Philophers Guild. I now have my own personal Jesus and I’m staking a claim that irony is not an anti-religious vice.

My Little Jesus doesn’t have the meek and mild hair-care that the website displays; more like I’ve-spent-40-days-in-the-wilderness-and-now-I-can’t-do-anything-with-my-hair (or in this case, in the gift shop). Maybe I should buy him a doll’s comb to make him look presentable. He’s divinely cute!

He also has no stigmata or loving heart. This must be a pre-crucifixion Jesus (which fits with the Philosopher’s sales tag). I peeked up his skirt and he’s gone commando. This little Jesus is too poor to own a loincloth; and since he’s a soft toy he is as emasculated as Ken. There will be no Last Temptation for this Jesus. He must be disappointed.

I wonder if I should get a cross for him so I can crucify him when Easter comes around.

Merry Eczemas

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Off to Invercargill to join my family for Christmas Day; box on Backing Day. See you on the other side. Only two more sleeps until the Boxing Day sales!

The Great Defender

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Reading an interview with Russell T Davies I found this quote: ‘[H]e admits to a touch of envy that someone else – Adrian Hodges, who wrote ITV’s Primeval – is bringing Terry Nation’s apocalyptic Seventies series Survivors back to our screens.’

What an exciting thought! I loved this series when I was a child, especially the first season when a global pandemic decimated the population and reduced civilization back to communal barbarism. It played late at night and we were allowed to stay up and watch it. I must see if I can find a feed for it.

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I was told today that it has been reported that the popular author Terry Pratchett, creator of the Discworld books, has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease.

“Sometimes I get nice letters from people who know that they’re due to meet him soon, and hope that I have got [Death] right. Those are the kind of letters that cause me to stare at the wall for some time…” The Art of Discworld

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Taniwha’s stories about her new cat reminds me of the first night that I brought Fremen home. She disappeared twice, resulting in an urgent search the first time, inside and outside the flat. Then I pulled open a drawer of my desk and found her curled up inside it. She was small enough at that age to climb up the back of the drawer in my desk and smuggle herself in.

The second time, after a brief search I called her name and her head popped up over the rim of my washing basket.

When we moved flats she found a way out of the house (there was a gap below the cylinder in the water heating cupboard) within seconds. She came back. I learned to stop worrying about cats getting out. They come back. My current cat, Tao, does.

The exception was, of course, Tessa. I adopted her at the same time as Tao. The first time she went outside she disappeared for three days. Eventually she handed herself in. She had got halfway down North East Valley. The person who found her phoned the number on her name tag which belonged to her previous owner, who returned her to me. Idiot cat!