THE CRYING GAME…..or….WHO ORDERED THE CODE RED?

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

 

I got up this morning, early as is my custom, turned on my now virtually obsolete and slow as molasses computer system, navigated to the site where I last remembered putting my blog and noted to my surprise that it had been late November of 2011 since I had last posted.  I know I was eating a turkey leg as I worked on that post so it had to be November.

In the grand scheme of things that snippet of information means nothing I realize but still, sometimes life has a way of sliding into low gear and you cruise along and before you know it months have gone by and you wonder what happened.

What do you mean its fucking April of 2012!

Where the hell did the time go?

As I wracked my brain trying to discern what it was in that last five months or so that had sidetracked me to the point that I would neglect updating my blog, it became quickly evident that there were was no CONCRETE reason for not having posted! 

Nothing mysterious involved in this really. Basically, it turns out that I am just a lazy motherfucker.  As my dear Aunt Pascualita, who I might add had an amazing ability to size people up used to say, “COMO ERES HUEVON Lencho!” Which in essence means you are one lazy little fucker kid.

She was usually frustrated by my constant refusal to sand the prominent corns on her feet down with old used shingles (we could not afford sandpaper). 

“Hold your nose and sand muy duro mijo. Make your little manitas burn. Make that “CALLO” go away! Andale sobrino rapido!”, she would urge, trying valiantly to persuade me to work some cosmetic miracles on her gruesome feet!

 I of course resisted performing that unpleasant task, but my love for her usually got the better of me and I would comply albeit at my usual lazy ass pace. Probably the reason that to this day I still suffer from CARPAL TUNNEL SYNDROME. Oh how I rubbed with that composition shingle!

She was in a perpetual state of exasperation with me and my singular lack of work ethic. It is what it is.

In contrast to my own proclivities, I have noted that many of my contemporary EVE bloggers to include many in my own corporation, were and are busy little beavers, prolifically generating reams and reams of high quality material that to be honest sometimes just makes me want to hang it up with respect to this blogging shit. How can I possibly hope to compete with some of these writers?

Last night for instance, I took some time out from my busy schedule and made a concerted effort to catch up on my Eve related blogs and frankly was overwhelmed with the realization that our beloved space  community is replete with talented story tellers who can weave a tale with the best of them.

EVE ONLINE is filled with a bunch of fucking MARK TWAIN's!

 It is both inspirational and in turn daunting to read some of the material and to subsequently realize that the bar has been substantially raised in the last couple of years by some of these writers to the point where you are afraid to sit down at your keyboard and get to work.

TENGO MIEDO!! Yes I am scared.

Why bother. Who wants to read your drivel when people like Miura Bull ,Kane Rizzel, Flashfresh and others less well known but equally talented are putting out high quality work  at an impressive rate.  Not only are they speed writers they are also very productive idea machines as the gamut of topics they cover is mind boggling.

 Many of them write the same way they fly their ships in Eve. They are frighteningly competent.  In essence, the competition has me intimidated and hesitant to push forward with anything of my own lest it pale miserably in the light of the masterpieces being generated by my EVE ONLINE blogging competitors. I mean look at just this example!  
http://eveoganda.blogspot.com/p/eve-blog-pack.html

All that having been said, I must confess that although I might be a lazy fucker, I have never been a quitter. (Are those two concepts really mutually exclusive?)

Miraculously and I thank God for this, reading the body of competitors work also inspired me. I went to bed that night determined to try again and woke up the next day energized and ready to get to work (not too hard of course).

Come on Lhorenzho I told myself, stop fucking around, sit down in your recliner, pour yourself a whiskey, and give some serious thought to at least putting down on paper something that resonates with you on some basic level. What presses  your buttons Vato??

What are you currently doing in NEW EDEN that has you stoked?  What excites you? Well, let me think. Hey, I love shooting CYNO’s. My corpmates know me as an inveterate and unabashed CYNO KILLA!! I was getting somewhere. Narrow it down. Keep thinking you old fool.

What is it about shooting CYNO’s that I can discuss that might interest potential readers of this blog? Suddenly it came to me. MY SHIP! My CYNO killing ship…my beloved RUPTURE.

This CYNO topic however, was a bit problematic.

Most people in NEW EDEN consider CYNO Killing and in particular CYNO Killers as pretty much the equivalent of slaughterhouse eviscerators, those poor unfortunate souls who toil all day in some poultry factory reaching into chicken body cavities and extricate the innards.

Hey it’s a job!

Incidentally for those of you who may be currently looking for work I provide the following "JOB DESCRIPTION" should you find yourself intriqued and seek a new challenge:

Butchers and processes poultry performing any combination of following tasks: Severs legs at first joint, using knife, and drops legs into container. Slits breast skin, removes crop, and places crop on conveyor. Removes oil sack and slits abdominal wall with knife. Grasps carcass with hands, opens abdominal cavity, and pulls out viscera. Separates and washes liver, heart, and viscera and drops them into trays. Cuts around anus to remove remaining viscera and drops it onto conveyor. Holds gizzard over machine rollers to remove skin and drops it into washer. Trims fat from giblet meat with knife and places meat and fat in trays. May be designated according to part of poultry processed as Foot Cutter; Gizzard-Skin Remover; or kind of poultry cleaned as Chicken Cleaner; Turkey Cleaner.

(FYI - I did this for a short period in a filthy factory in East Los Angeles as part of a "REHABILITATION" stint)

No, I would have to find some element of the quasi-reviled sport of CYNO killing that might peak the interest of readers. The answer was clearly evident of course. EVE players love their ships and like them I also had a fondness for ships, in particular as I have noted above, my RUPTURE cruiser.  BINGO fuckers. That’s it!

 I will talk of my RUPTURE.  Still, obstacles loomed.

Now the problem was to find an angle, an approach so to speak that might be a little different from what might be written about a RUPTURE by other. Plus, to be honest, I could not hope to compete with other talented pilots and NEW EDEN game mechanic and technical guru’s who would easily run circles around me were I to confine my discussion to those difficult and mind numbing aspects of the Ruppy.

Frankly, I wanted to leave the esoteric discussions and chart and graph flipping to guys like WENSLEY and Kaeda Maxwell (a real beancounter and infamous math error detector!)

 I had to dig down and come up with something that was nearer and dearer to my heart than just the nuts and bolts components of the cruiser. How did I FEEL about the ship in general. Yes, that would be my tactic of discussion. I was always a bloke who could get in touch with his feminine side (and I am not even counting my short period as a confused cross-dresser) and that talent would serve now as I formulated a plan of attack to enable me to POST something of substance.

 The answer was easy and came quickly to me once I had resolved myself to accepting the non-technical approach.

 Last year some time, I had composed a sonnet of sorts in tribute to my favorite ship the indomitable RUPTURE. 
I would pull it out from my archives, maybe polish it up a bit and post it.
Although I hesitate sometimes to expose my innermost feelings to the outside world, I figured in this situation I would have to take myself out of my “comfort zone” and just do it and let the chips fall where they may.
So, without any further delay, I display below the ODE To RUPPY. 
I wrote the “poem” quickly (about 20 minutes) during a trying period in my EVE life when I suffered from bouts of melancolia, so I apologize for its shortcomings. Try dear readers, if you can, to look beyond some of its literary deficiencies and try to reflect on the “FEELINGS” I was wrestling with when I sat down to compose it. 
It is a tribute to a wonderful little ship.

                                       ODE TO RUPPY

 (composed by Lhorenzho as inspired by a Rupture)

 Magnificent thou art, oh mighty RUPPY, splendid ship of my desire,

silence you will through deeds the mocking cries which label you a space hair dryer.

From the primordial depths of space, hull lucent and aglow with nebulae’s fair light,

upon your hapless prey you swoop, to bring to life in violence the glorious good fight.

Their life your neuts will drain, their unbridled haste your webs will halt,

liquid fuel fed fires of death await to swallow him who dares your power fault.

Heinous pain and anguished lamentations, your overheated weaponry will bring,

and compounded be their angst as warrior drones inflict their deadly explosive sting.

 Your low slot gyrostabilizers our rivals pain will surely augment,

and fates sweet providence permit your fusion ammo their armor plate to dent

Optimal, falloff, transversal, orbit and ammo choice,

selected well  and wise ensure that dawn finds in our hearts sublime rejoice.

 Oh Minmitar hammer, with boundless force and thunder forever strike them dead,

and have their desolate nights be filled with tempestuous dreams of horrid dread.

Vaunted be thy name and terror filled the life of those you smote,

 and in the dreary void in frozen state forever may their vanquished corpses float.

Dear Rupture, let not their lavish warrior IMPLANTS give you pause,

move true with resolute desire and will to strike with justice as your cause.

Give no quarter able cruiser lest your enemies impetuous urge for conquest rise anew,

and boldly push into the fray for your insurance radiates a platinum hue.

Calamity dire befall the miscreant who CYNOSURAL field dare light,

infernal flames will greet the ship who tests the steadfast Ruppys might.

In horrible destruction and doleful shades the interloper yet be bound,

salvage we will the would be conquerors smoking wreckage strewn about in litter field profound.

In triumph we return oh gallant Rupture steed of glory,

to raise a toast and tell your tale to all who yearn to hear your wondrous story.

Their legs our women lovingly will spread, and tightly wrap around our loins,

with ardor heightened by the spoils of faction mods and glimmering purloined coins.