Wednesday, April 30, 2014

What's up with digital pricing for movies?

Recently, I thought it might be fun to pick up John Carter, since I haven't seen it yet. I thought I'd get a digital copy, if it was reasonably priced, since we're trying to keep the clutter down in our house...

$19.99. iTunes wants $19.99 for the HD version, or $14.99 for SD. Amazon Prime wants $14.99.

That's insane.

I can buy the BluRay + DVD combo pack brand new for $13.25 -- or just the DVD for $9.95. That's right, it actually costs less to get the same movie on a physical disk, with physical packaging and probably a printed insert, than it does to buy an electronic copy.

How does that make any kind of sense?

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

The Cloud Roads is a Kindle Daily Deal - get it now!

Martha Wells is one of my favorite authors. The Cloud Roads is one of my favorite books. And right now, it's available as a Kindle Daily Deal for $1.99, which is about six different shades of awesome. Go! Now! Buy this book!

You can thank me later.

No, I'm not kidding. Awesome world-building, excellent characters, incredible action... trust me, you'll love it.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006OOFD58/

The Hunter Prince: Emergency Blades

Janiva walked calmly up the passage, then slowed. She heard... something. Ahead of her, or behind? She couldn't tell. She glanced back, and saw only Cyjar and Morius; Cyjar had created a light for them,

She glanced back, and saw Cyjar still standing beside Morius. Cyjar had conjured a soft light, like the one she was using, so that they could still see while she went ahead. Morius had moved over to lean against the wall, favoring his still-mostly-broken leg.

...That had been a bad moment. They'd been exploring the hall behind the steel door, when the floor had swayed and given way under their feet. Cyjar had crashed into a crossbeam, and Janiva had fallen on top of him; it had been enough to interrupt their fall, leaving them bruised and battered, but intact. Morius had been behind them when the ramp gave way; he'd fallen straight down to the stone floor. It had all happened in darkness, too: the shock of falling had caused them to release the spells they'd been using for light...

"Do you have a weapon?" asked Janiva, looking from Cyjar to Morius and back again. She was whispering, in case whatever she had heard could hear them as well; her feet had carried her back, even as her memory relived that horrible fall.

Morius shook his head, but Cyjar straightened and reached for his belt.

At fourteen, Janiva was taller than either of her friends. As the daughter of High Lord of the Western Marches, she was training for knighthood. It was necessary, if she ever wanted to inherit her father's title; but she would have done it anyway, for sheer love of the fighting arts. The only reason that she wasn't wearing a blade already was that she hadn't worn one to dinner, and she and Cyjar had followed Morius down here immediately after leaving the meal.

She wasn't surprised that Cyjar might have a weapon. He was the Crown Prince, and he trained with the Crown's Own just as she did. Morius had some training at arms, but his was oriented towards civilian concerns: self-defense and dueling. His line held a mid-sized lordship over a collection of eastern counties, with several large cities and two of the largest trade routes into the capital. Their concerns were focused on politics and economics, rather than battle and survival.

A year or so earlier, Cyjar had taken to wearing a set of leather pouches on his belt. He'd never said anything about them, and Janiva had never thought to ask. Now, as the prince twisted the leather strip free of the button and pulled the hardened leather cover up, she saw what was inside: the soft, golden glow of a containing-crystal. It dissolved in Cyjar's hand, spilling out into sparkling golden mist and leaving behind a set of blades. Cyjar fumbled and held on to two of them; beside him, Morius reached out and deftly caught the one that Cyjar had started to drop.

They were a matched set, Cyjar's favorites: the ones with the wolves' heads on the guards. Janiva reached out and put her hand on the hilt of the longsword. "May I?" she asked, suddenly aware that Cyjar was trusting them with one of his secrets.

He nodded, and his dark hair swayed with the movement. "Take it." He glanced at Morius, who was still holding the dagger. "Why don't you hang onto that one?"

Morius nodded, and arranged the dagger on his belt. Cyjar, following his example, hung the shortsword from his own belt.

Janiva took a moment to examine the longsword; it was a good blade, long enough to offer some reach, but not too long to be used with one hand. The hilt had been designed to work in either one hand or two; it was no wonder Cyjar liked it. If she was going to scout ahead, into an open area with something in it, she wanted to be holding a blade... and this one would do nicely. "Stay here," she said. "And, Morius?"

He looked at her.

"Quit whining."

As she walked away, she heard him whisper, "I didn't say anything!"

Monday, April 28, 2014

April 2014 State of the Blogger

Real life has gotten a little... interesting for me. I've taken on some new responsibilities at work, which is good for my job security and my prospects of maybe someday getting a promotion. It has also dramatically increased my workload all by itself... plus, we're looking at upgrading to the latest version of the software in early June. That means that we need to upgrade the test servers in time for some of our more experienced end users to test them, and that means...

Tuesday. We're making that upgrade on Tuesday.

It wouldn't be that big a deal by itself. I mean, yes, it's a big project and if anything goes wrong it could eat up hours or even days of my life, but once it's done it's done.

Unfortunately, this is the last week in April, and May is (as always) The Month Of The Festivals, when every city in North Texas tries to squeeze their events into that brief moment of nice weather before summer comes and tries to immolate us all. For me, this means last-minute updates to event websites; it means photography at the events, so that we have images we can use to build future websites; it means a heady combination of stress, exhaustion, and overtime which leaves me deeply ambivalent about the whole thing.

...And when we come out of that? Why, yes: it's early June. Time to update those live servers, and very probably everybody's clients as well. No matter how closely we examine the results of the upgrade on the test servers, doing it on the live system is still likely to go horribly, soul-devouringly wrong.

Still, once that's done, I can get some rest... No, wait. Once that's done, we have the other major software upgrade - the one that, if past experience is any predictor, has been subjected to a minimal and insufficient amount of testing and quality assurance; the one whose documentation is written by semi-literate monkeys who have a habit of copying and pasting quasi-relevant bits of older documentation, and who have never even heard of the concept of proof-reading.

...Not that I'm bitter, or anything.

Anyway, that one's scheduled for... late June? Early July, maybe? ...and it's guaranteed to be a horrible ordeal.

Somewhere in there, we have at least one other website that we're trying to migrate over to a Content Management System, so that department can actually keep their own information up to date. That means we have to finish building out their new site, which for some reason requires me to assemble all the links for the needlessly-antiquated scheduling system they insist on using. There's also another set of departmental web-pages which we've almost finished re-designing and re-organizing, and which are almost ready to replace the existing pages. That's probably no more than a couple of hours of work, if we can just find a couple of hours in here somewhere.

TL;DR: At any given point between now and the beginning of August, I'm very likely to be completely out of my mind with stress, exhaustion, and/or workload. I have no idea what effect that will have on the Blog o' Doom, here. But if I suddenly drop off the face of the Internet, it's almost certainly because my job is trying to kill me. Feel free to send help. Or cookies. Or rum. Rum would be good.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

The Little Joys of Parenting, Part Poo

So... Secondborn kind of... exploded... on the playground, prior to driving over to his grandparents' house. Owing to an ill-fated earlier adventure, I didn't have the usual spare change of clothes in the adventure pack in my trunk. I did, fortunately, have an old towel to put on his seat. Towel and clothing are now doing their time in the washing machine at the grandparents' house. Secondborn, meanwhile has gone through the bathtub and come out far less likely to violate some sort biowarfare-related strategic arms limitation.

Friday, April 25, 2014

The Hunter Prince: Down In The Tunnel

So, I'm starting this episode over again. It's not that I didn't like the earlier bits, it's just that they were starting to A) get off-track, and B) become very long. Which meant they were delaying the interesting sections that I really wanted to get to writing. I'm fixing that by skipping over most what I've written already, like so:

"Explain to me again why you thought this would be a good idea," said Janiva, brushing a hand along the damp stone wall as she walked.

"It wasn't my fault," protested Morius, who was limping along with one arm on Cyjar's shoulder for support. "I just wanted to see what was behind the big metal door."

"So now we're stuck in this... cave. Tunnel. Whatever it is." Janiva sounded slightly disgusted. She was walking ahead of the two boys, and it was her spell that was providing the faint glow of light above their heads.

"Both, I think," put in Cyjar.

"Whatever," Janiva repeated. "Nobody knows we're down here, and we can't get back up."

"I didn't know the ramp would collapse," muttered Morius. "I didn't even know it was a ramp. I thought it was flooring. Who would build a wooden ramp to connect the wine cellar with a cave?"

"Somebody a long time ago," said Cyjar. "That wood was old, and I don't think that door has been opened in a long, long time."

"You're just lucky that the Armsmaster set me to study battlefield healing," said Janiva, then stopped.

Cyjar stopped behind her, but couldn't see what she might be looking at. The rough stone of the walls, floor, and ceiling faded into the darkness ahead of them.

Morius took advantage of the pause to bend down and massage his leg. "About that... Maybe you should study some healing healing. It would be kind of nice if you knew how to actually heal my leg, instead of just holding it together long enough to finish a battle..." Janiva turned back to say something, but Morius continued: "It's better than leaving it completely broken. It just hurts."

Janiva quirked her lips, then turned back to look down the tunnel. "It looks like it opens up ahead of us. You two stay here." She paused, then looked back at Morius. "...And quit whining."

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Slight Delay...

So, yeah, I didn't actually come up with anything to post today. I'm hoping to throw something up at lunch - I have a couple of ideas primed, I just haven't been able to sit down and pull them together. If that doesn't work, well... I'll have something for tomorrow.


Meanwhile, a question: What's the weirdest dream you've had lately? What's the weirdest dream you ever had?

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

It hatched. It hatched. It hatched.

My allergies are trying to kill me. So, instead of trying to write around a horrifically persistent headache, I'm going to refer you back to a short story from a while back: Allergies.

Morning Pronouncements

Me, speaking to Firstborn this morning: "The time has come. Awaken, child! Come, and eat the waffles... and so restore order to the galaxy, and peace to the Empire."

Firstborn, answering nobly: "ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz..."

Monday, April 21, 2014

Action Movie Kid

If you haven't seen Action Movie Kid, you really should. I'm assuming that his dad is an animator.

Here's a compilation of his adventures so far:

Sunday, April 20, 2014

The True Meaning Of Easter

We have once again reached that special point in the calendar, that sacred day when the bunnies come to lay eggs made of flowers, which the happy children collect in their nests. These miraculous eggs hatch into gifts of holy chocolate, which are then consumed to ensure the fertility of the community in the coming year. In some communities, a few select eggs may hatch into coins or other sorts of money, to strengthen the community economically as well.

As part of the celebration, children and adults alike may consume chocolate bunny-effigies, in memory of the ancient bunny-god (the Deus Ex Lepus) who offered up his flesh for the fecundity of the whole world. The traditional approach requires believers to consume the ears first, just as the Holy Bunny had his ears lopped off by the rebellious soldiers who tried (and failed) to deny His Lagomorphic Divinity. Eventually, however, the entire body is consumed in a sweet reminder of the way the spirit of the Great March Hare fills us all.

Not everyone believes this, of course. And even among believers, not everyone chooses to mark the occasion by performing the full and complete Rite. Regardless, I hope you'll join me in wishing everyone a cute and fluffy day, and a hoppy new year!

Friday, April 18, 2014

Just in time for Easter...

I'm still behind on writing (everything, not just for the Blog o' Doom, here), so today I'm just going to provide links for a collection of Easter-related items that have appeared here in the past.

First up: A Quick History of Easter. Learn about the origins and ancient practices associated with the holiday.

Next: Alethos Aneste. It's... um... it's the Easter story, sort of, as it might have been if Jesus had said, "Let me show Your strength against my enemies," instead of, "Forgive them, they know not what they do." A very different sort of resurrection...

And finally: Bunnies, it must be bunnies. Two members of the Watch show up to investigate why killer bunnies are hatching from Easter eggs.

So there you go. Enjoy!

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Sanguinary Battle, revised

I'm still not entirely satisfied with the first fight scene over at The Shining Walls. So, I've gone back and revised it. Hopefully I'll have a new section either tomorrow or early next week.

(I'm actually kind of hoping for early next week, as another bit of The Hunter Prince or A Haunted World are the things most likely to show up here and delay the next installment of The Shining Walls.)

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Guilty Pleasures: BABYMETAL

Yeah, it's... becoming a bit of a guilty pleasure for me, not least for the effect it has on my co-workers.

Monday, April 14, 2014

This Vicious Cabaret

I have a complicated relationship with V For Vendetta. It's a funny little piece of my youth, and it's something that I can still go back and re-read. (The movie version more or less passed me by; I've watched it once, and I remember thinking that they'd handled the source material with skill and respect, and that most of the changes they'd made were good and necessary to make the movie work... but I'd have to watch it again to add any real detail to that impression.) No matter how much I enjoy it, however, there are parts of the book that I strenuously disagree with, and parts that I find extremely troubling.

I suspect that's part of the reason I enjoy it. Also, by the book's own lights, I suspect that's a good and laudable reaction.

Included in the graphic novel, in the break between the first and second sections, is a bit of music: notation and lyrics, both. It's a striking little interlude, because it neatly summarizes the important parts of the plot so far, and because it always struck me as eminently playable. It turns out that the lyrics were written by Alan Moore (who did the writing for V for Vendetta) with the help of David J. Haskins, a member of the goth band Bauhaus. So yes, it's completely playable, and yes, there actually is an audio version of it:



It doesn't sound quite the way it did in my head, of course.

Friday, April 11, 2014

You get one item...

Right, so: you've been chosen to save the Universe from the Forces of Darkness. At the culmination of the Great Rite in which your role in the Struggle was first revealed, you were given something to help you with your work. What did you receive, and what does it do? (This is a completely open question. Tell us a story, or part of a story, about you set out to save the day. Make up any kind of item, and any kind of Dark Forces, that you like.)

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Teen Pregnancy In Stories

So, yesterday I read through The Big Long Young Adult Pregnancy Post over at Bree Ervin's Think Banned Thoughts blog. It's worth a read, if you can spare the time and the emotional investment. All I know is that I read it (and this isn't the first time something like this has happened), and my first reaction is that is that I should include a character like that in my own story, and ignore the usual stereotypes.

I'm not saying I will, mind you. The project that a teen pregnancy would best fit into is already a bit tied up in ostentatiously ignoring a completely different stereotype. Still, the temptation is there... and I have other projects.

So... we'll see. In the meantime, there's a look at some common tropes that you could alter, invert, or subvert in some very interesting ways.

So he's a bit of a fixer-upper...

A few weeks back, the Beautiful Wife and I dropped Firstborn off at the house of one of his friends, so we could go out and have a married-couple date. While they were settling the kids in, they put on Rise of the Guardians. So I have now seen the first ten minutes (or so) of that film.

In related news, Beatiful Wife and I actually managed to watch Frozen in its entirety, in the theater, over Christmas break.

So my first reaction, in watching Rise of the Guardians? "You know, we should really set up Jack Frost with Elsa."

If I had more time, I'd write the fan fiction.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Those dirty rats...

I'm taking a break - probably pretty brief, but still a break - so instead of actually writing... well... anything, I'm just going to post something I found interesting and send you off to read it.

In a simple experiment, researchers at the University of Chicago sought to find out whether a rat would release a fellow rat from an unpleasantly restrictive cage if it could. The answer was yes.

So, if morality cannot exist without religion (which I don't believe myself), would this study suggest that rats have some form of religion? It seems more likely to me that the basic underpinnings of morality (empathy and fairness) are part of our biological heritage.

Friday, April 4, 2014

Auction Basket: Teddy's Night Off

That's right: the children are staying over at their grandparents' house, and Theodore A. Bear has a night off! What's a stuffed animal to do with such a rare opportunity? Well... now we know:



...Actually, it's a basket for a silent auction for our United Way fundraiser. Total cost was about $16, and I have no idea what it'll bring in. On the other hand, it has alcohol, so it's a sure bet that someone will bid on it.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

The Hunter Prince: The Impossible Climb

Janiva tested the wall for five full minutes before she gave up. She tried different places for her hands and feet; she leaned back to see if she could reach the far wall. She tried the other wall, went up a few feet, then slipped back down. Cyjar, watching quietly, nodded his head: it was too steep, and the stone was just damp enough to be slippery. After a moment, Janiva placed her hands on the heavy wooden beams that braced the remaining stairs. There was a crossbeam just above her reach, and she gathered herself to jump for it.

"Don't," said Morius. "With a section missing from the middle, those stairs are even more likely to collapse than they were when we were walking on them. The whole top section could tear loose, and drop you right back down here. That's ignoring--" he coughed, "--the likelihood that it, and you, would land directly on top of us."

Janiva frowned at Morius for a moment. Then her expression softened. "I suppose you're right," she said. She eyed the wood thoughtfully. "If we set it on fire, would the smoke bring help?"

Cyjar touched a beam. "It's pretty damp. That might mean a lot of smoke... if we can get it to burn at all." He looked down at Morius. "Would the smoke go through the door? Or past it?"

"I don't know," said Morius. "The door's heavy, but I think some smoke would go around the edges. It might not be enough, unless someone happened to be standing in the wine cellar. And we might be very uncomfortable while it was burning."

"Then we either wait here," said Janiva, "or we move away before we set the stairs on fire." She looked out to the edge of the magical light that Cyjar had summoned. They had fallen through the middle of the stairs, leaving a tall section behind them and a lower section blocking the way between them and whatever passageway the stairs were supposed to lead to. "Someone will come looking for us."

"We should wait," said Cyjar. "If nobody comes, we can rest - and then heal Morius' leg."

Janiva scowled. "I'd rest better with a blanket."

"Oh!" Cyjar fumbled at his belt, then opened a hard leather pouch. Reaching in with his his fingertips, he pulled out a containing-crystal. He examined it briefly, then tapped it with one finger.

The crystal dissolved, and a set of blankets blossomed in its place.

"I was thinking about the hunt," Cyjar said, apologetically. "I forgot I had them with me."

Janiva took a blanket off the pile, and spread it over Morius. "What else do you have?"

Cyjar hesitated. "Food and water, a sword. Arrows and bowstrings, but no bow."

Morius chuckled. "I thought I was the sneaky one. Well... rest if you can. I'd like to be healed."

"You two should rest," said Cyjar. "I'll listen, in case anyone comes looking for us."

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Meanwhile, at the Overlook....

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.



I admit, seeing sheet after sheet of the same sentence is a lot less impressive in the age of cutting and pasting...