Major, major props to waywind, who was kind enough to point me at a service called LJBook.com. It's the tool I've been trying to find for years now.

In short, it takes your journal and makes a very well constructed PDF backup of it. It lets you pick the date ranges, what security levels, how much of the media (pictures) to include, and so on. Then it bundles it all up into a .PDF file with a full table-of-contents, broken in to date-wise chapters. All comments are included, as well. The end result is wonderfully readable, unlike countless other LJ-Backup tools I've tried.



Turns your journal into a PDF Book.


LJBook (gads_ljbook)


(yes, that's their official 'plug' code; I felt it was only proper to include it.)

I feel a lot better now knowing that my journal is backed up in an offline fashion that's still searchable/readable. I've put a huge amount of my life's last six years into this journal, and if it all went away one day without warning I'd be crushed. As I type this the data is making it to physical media and remote storage. I'll re-do the process every few months, breaking it down into year-wise .PDF booklets at the year ends.

The current stat: 4800 pages. 60Mb. Just... duuuude. That's a lot of stuff for "oh, I think I'll just keep a journal for a while and see how it goes."

The nifty thing, though, was to take the MobiPocket reader (which I have to run under Parallels, but no worries there) and convert the "My LJ as a Book" result into the .mobi format. The reason: my Kindle can use .mobi natively. I've copied the result over to an SD card to sit alongside the big collection of sci-fi, fantasy and trashy romance novels I keep in the little e-paper device. Even after the double-conversion, it looks great. All the pictures show up. All the comments are there. Every link, every tag, every note. The chapters all work as do the search indexes, letting me quickly scan for things I've written years ago. As an added bonus, every link is still clickable due to the Kindle's EVDO connection and built in browser. The active linking helps keep the 'alive' nature of the original online journal.

It may be silly, but it's kind of neat to see this little leather-bound book (which is what a Kindle looks like when closed) sitting here on my desk, knowing just how much of my life -- and comments from my friends about that life -- it contains. What will it look like to me when I go back and read it in 10 years? 20? 30?

So, today and yesterday, I ran Mhar for CanGames. I'd never ran the game before, and only barely knew the rules. The players, however, had a blast, which was satisfying, and helped sooth my nervousness. Everything there went well.

Paul's 'proof of concept' running his MechaKnights game. That's gone over well, he's been enjoying himself, and been getting useful input from the players. I've been wanting to run Borderland, the new RPG I'm working on, but nobody showed up for it today or yesterday. Hopefully I'll get a chance to run it tomorrow.

Tapped some artists for the game, which is good, and also tapped people for the next issue of the Grimoire -- we're looking for more writers and artists to put stuff in. Hopefully, this year will be more productive than last year -- it looks like it so far. :)

Tomorrow's the last day.

Still not king

I’m not really a “horse guy”, and I never watch horse racing. But today while visiting the family we watched the Preakness, and damn Big Brown is a gorgeous horse. It looked like he won without even really trying, and had a fun time in the process! Impressive!

So, if you and your 4-year-old accidentally got stuck in Super Mario Galaxy and didn't wind up getting lunch 'til 2:30, and that lunch was gigantic hot dogs and french fries and mac+cheese at Famous Frank's Famous Franks which just opened up where the tiki bar used to be, you're not quite so hungry at dinnertime, but you still gotta eat.

So you ask the 4yo what the protein food for dinner should be, and he proclaims, "cheese".

Also you haven't gotten grocery shopping very much lately, so there's a limited supply of stuff in the fridge. But there's half a head of cauliflower and some frozen stuff. So, the devious plan is to utterly misremember what 'colcannon' is, and make colcannon as you misremember it.

Insidiously thwack the cauliflower into tiny florets, and nuke 'til soft.

Glooble a tablespoon of oil -- purists might use butter, but purists wouldn't have eaten lunch at Famous Frank's Famous Frank's Famous Franks at 2:30 -- into a saucepan, add a tablespoon or two of flour, and cook it 'til it's a roux. Then add two tablespoons of minced garlic, 'cause that's what's in the minced garlic jar. Purists would use fresh garlic (and usually I do), but purists wouldn't have eaten lunch at Famous Frank's Famous Frank's Famous Frank's Famous Franks at 2:30. Pour in about a cup of milk, and about four ounces of diced cheese (cheddar, jarlsberg, and whatever that yellow-and-white-mottled stuff that Rhys got is). Stir frantically 'til the cheese melts. Salt and pepper to taste, which even purists would do. Add the frozen peas remaining in the bag, decide that that's not enough, and add some frozen spinach. Toss in the cauliflower.

And ... yum. It tastes like Cheese At Home, and has lots of veggies.

Look up colcannon recipes while eating, and discover that you were thinking of the Moosewood recipe for "rumbledethumps", and pretty much misremembering that. Purists would snort at you for this.

But purists would probably ask for seconds, too, like everyone else at the table.

Only one new sketch today, but I like it. Geez, these take me forever.

Anyway, now I begin scanning for the Retrospective, which I hope to have up by Tuesday. I definitely got enough money to scan all the good stuff from Sketchbook 18...!

I just attempted to read Inverloch. The story is intriguing, the art is beautiful, but someone REALLY needs to teach this woman about pacing. You don't have to pause for a dramatic moment or a random expression for every other panel. And two people are actually capable of speaking in the same panel if you want, while introducing a plot element even. Really! She looks like she's learned a little in Phoenix Requiem, but still, pretty art doesn't make up for a story that moves as though it's chained to rocks. I notice on the 'about' page there's a disclaimer saying it isn't a webcomic but a graphic novel, which speaks of defensive she's heard it before-ness. Ahwell.

My morning consisted of waking up to the sensation that someone had misplaced their icepick somewhere in the vicinity of behind my right eye. Now, my brain is very very crafty when it doesn't want me to wake up, so I ended up having no less than THREE quick dozing dreams of going into the bathroom, taking ibuprophen, and lying back down. Eventually I figured out that I hadn't really done it and staggered into the bathroom, drugged myself with multiple painkillers, and then limped into the kitchen to fetch an icepack.

For Christmas last year Scott's brother gave me one of those gel icepacks, probably meant for kids. It's shaped like a kittyhead, and the kittyhead sat on my right temple until the icepick sensation faded into a mere few chunks of gravel. Probably one of the few times I've ever been grateful to have a cat sitting on my face.

Of course, it's all probably my own dang fault for staying up until 5AM drawing. But I was In The Zone. I have Monday and Wednesday's comic penciled. I just need to tweak it a bit and ink and scan and touch up and tone and letter and... Whimper. Why did I decide to do this again? Oh yeah, fame and fortune...

Scott is at the church for a work day, and if he isn't exhausted we'll head out to watch movieness. Otherwise, he will nap, I will draw, and we might catch it tomorrow.

Yesterday the Miata spent some time at Rotorsport getting molestered. Suspension work: coil overs and alignment. They've been cluttering up my garage for about six months, I'm glad that they're on the car now.

( Blah blah blah blah... )

Leaping into the unknown. Again and again.

So here we have another bit of strangeness for my deck: there are to be three Fools. This is taking a page from the way there are three Magicians in some printings of the Crowley/Harris Thoth. However, in the Thoth, these three Magicians are there because they weren't satisfied with the first two (or so I gather), and some publishers decided to use the extra images to fill out the full sheet of cards to a nice round 80. In mine, this is quite intentional; my notes on doing this show up about a dozen cards into the sketches.

This is the third fool, number 0(2). It is the old fool, the Crone fool. This Fool has gone along the "Fool's Journey" narrative of the Major Arcana more than a few times; she knows the road and knows the observers. She's playing for the camera a bit as she dives headlong into the future.

I'll talk about the commonalities between this card, the other two Fools, and other cards in the deck once it's all done.

Also I need to remember to post this to the VCL once it's working again.

Print available on Artspots.

Does anyone suppose that [a child] really and prosaically longs for all the dangers and discomforts of a fairy tale?—really wants dragons in contemporary England? It is not so. It would be much truer to say that fairy land arouses a longing for he knows not what. It stirs and troubles him (to his life-long enrichment) with the dim sense of something beyond his reach and, far from dulling or emptying the actual world, gives it a new dimension of depth. He does not despise real woods because he has read of enchanted woods: the reading makes all real woods a little enchanted. --C.S. Lewis, via dajagr.

Yes.

I believe this is true of a lot of art (music, writing, painting, etc.), and certainly not relegated to one specific genre. I think that ideally the art that I take into myself will infuse the everyday with more enchantment and beauty.

But right now, on a more personal level, Seattle is seeming a lot like 'fairy land.' I want my vacation to enrich the 'actual world' of my daily existence...and yet, I'm not sure how to integrate the two.

In Seattle, I was free from responsibility. Oh, I suppose I was responsible not to be an ass to my hosts and their other friends, or to get ready for planned events on time...but those sorts of 'responsibilities' count far more at eight (just ask me when I'm trying to get Daniel ready for school) than at 36, when they're basically second-nature. (I hope.)

In Orlando, it feels like all I am is responsible - for the kids, the house, the dog, getting other people's kids from school to play school, watching other people's kids, doing errands and favors for friends, doing things for the temple. Sometimes it feels like my whole life is figuring out what I'll do for other people: yes, I can manage this; no, I won't be able to do that. But proactively, what do I really want? What is my bigger picture for my own life? I have no idea.

I know that I wouldn't be happy long-term with a life lived basically for myself. This isn't to say it's a bad plan, just that it's not something that would help me to grow. I truly believe that this life I have is the best life for me.

And yet. And yet... I miss stimulating conversation. I miss attention, of the sort where someone listens and considers my point of view. The attention I get now is more along the lines of "Mom, I'm thirsty," which is entirely different.

I want time to really write and to work on art, and I can't seem to figure out how to make that happen. And I think the reason I crave it is because it's part of the process...of bringing the 'fairy land' of vacation into this world of my reality, of identifying and expressing all of the different facets of myself.

Journal entries are a start, I suppose. The rest...should come, though I'm not sure how. Wish me luck in terms of finding a place to begin.

I've been wrestling with a basic political problem, through discussions with others and through materials that include this article and some recent words of Rush Limbaugh. The Republicans/conservatives don't have any principles anymore; or to the extent that they do, they've accepted the principles of the Democrats/liberals. Limbaugh ends up making a mistake though, by saying, "All it takes is guts and courage and instinctive conservatism. This shouldn't even take any homework to figure out what to say. It ought to be in your heart."

The current political disputes aren't just about how high taxes should be, or whether the federal government should provide health care through private industry or nationalization, or even the war. There's a deeper, more dangerous problem here. The problem is that collectively, we Americans have implicitly bought into some corrosive ideas. Namely: that our government has no limits on its authority, and that it can and should manage all aspects of our lives. Or: our freedom means nothing, and whether to impose new regulations is just a question of whether they'd work. Or: whoever's in charge ought to use their superior wisdom to tell us how to live.

Both major political parties are in agreement that our government can and should confiscate a large share of all wealth we create, manipulate the economy to decide what industries and technologies should succeed, impose standards of niceness beyond those needed to protect our rights, tell us what substances we can put in our bodies, and provide food, housing, medicine, education, and pensions to those in need. Those rights and duties of government are basically undisputed.

The reason that set of duties is so dangerous is that mainstream political debate has conceded the points above, so that it's no longer possible for a mainstream political figure to logically take a moral or even legal stand against almost any form of oppression. Say that Hillary steals the Democratic nomination and gives McCain a well-deserved clobbering. She's said she wants to order you to buy health care. (Obama's buddy Edwards approves.) Don't want to? She's your leader and you will obey. Now, what argument can Joe Conservative make against this proposal? If Joe says, "That's oppressive and the government doesn't have the authority to give people that order," Hillary can truthfully say, "You've got no right to complain; you agree with the ideas that we can take people's money for any purpose we want, that we can redesign the economy however we want, that people have a right to get health care, and that the government ought to be in the health care business. Our only difference is in the details, so as long as I can muster the votes, I can do what I want." Similarly, if a senator proposes a "windfall profits penalty" of, oh, $10,000,000 on a business you own, how can you complain if you're a mainstream Republican? You've bought into the idea that taxes are unlimited, and that Congress can pick on whoever it wants for any reason it wants. We're giving up the protection of the Constitution in favor of a British-like system under which a democratic vote could let 51% of the population vote to kill the other 49%. (Parliament is sovereign, and Her Majesty's subjects have no rights except those it grants them.) And as long as the people want more and more to be done for (and to) them, the government will grow unchecked and gain ever more power over our lives.

So what do we do? It seems to me that the three main political stances I could take are: (1) Accept the premises above, cheerfully accepting that we are all wards of the state, (2) Accept those premises but whine about how they're being taken too far and feel guilty about not being "compassionate" enough, or (3) Reject the premises, loudly, and accept that a lot of what the government is doing now is beyond its constitutional authority. To be logically consistent in opposing obnoxious, oppressive laws on grounds other than "that's not the best way to do it," I would have to advocate some radical positions like dismantling Social Security and legalizing drugs. And if I'm not logical in the position I'm taking, truth is not on my side; I'm relying on dishonesty and empty rhetoric to persuade people. Someone who is a straightforward socialist, who sincerely believes that all our rights are expendable in service to goals like "social justice," can speak honestly and powerfully for what they believe. In a conflict between that sincere position and waffling hypocrisy, guess who wins?

Am I wrong? I'm erring on the side of being a loudmouth here rather than meekly accepting this problem as unsolvable. Phil's reaction to a version of the above argument was that the American people will never elect someone who takes positions like "drugs should be legal," even a candidate who treats those things as back-burner issues and focuses on moderate goals like reducing the size of government. If that's true, then the only electable positions are #1 and #2 above, and this country will ratchet its way bit by bit into being a socialist state that kills people for the "common good." I nearly wimped out on the wording of that sentence, but it's true. The governments of Soviet Russia and Maoist China killed millions of people through their oppressive, idiotic, arrogant attempts to "manage" the country. The best we could hope for under a socialist scenario is that we're told what to buy, but we can pick the brand; we're told what to think, but we can talk about soap operas all we want; and we have to put in unpaid national service, but we can pick which master we serve. There are worse possible futures, but is dark grey good enough for you?

The above is why Limbaugh and Hannity are missing part of the picture. If the Republicans would grow enough of a spine to develop a coherent platform, that'd be a start, but that isn't enough to fully rally people. What I want to see is someone with a platform that sets reform goals that include some modest ones, but that's backed up with a strong, principled stand. They can be pragmatic and "reach across the aisle" if they need to in order to advance an agenda, but if their positions are based on incoherent gut feelings and instinct, they deserve to lose any debate.

They didn't screw up Reepacheep.  S'all you need to know.  Go see it.

All the folks I sent out query letters to say to expect an answer in 4-6 weeks.

I got an answer from one of the literary agents I queried today. She wants to see a formal proposal, sample chapter, and marketing plan.

*yikes*

I had planned on raiding Serpentshrine Cavern in WoW this weekend, but it looks like I'll be writing a book proposal instead... *panics*

So much lost. A lifetime gone.

In a few weeks, months, today will be gone too.

How am I supposed to build a life out of sand?

What am I supposed to write, if the pages are just going to be torn out?