February01


	Had a look at Oberin. Looks fun so far, and interesting. But if they don't improve the PK aspect of it I won't be paying any money for it. Forget about all the moralistic crap spouted by some. I mean to say .... "The sanctity of all life, even virtual life..."? Jesus Christ, give me a fucking break. Hey, I'll hug a tree with the best of them, but some things just turn my stomach. It's purely a marketing decision. The game makers have got to decide. Do they want an extreme PK environment, or not? Which will sell better? Which will get more customers? And then decide based on that. For, make no mistake, if any non-consensual PK is allowed I won't play the game, and neither will many others. It's just not fun. Nothing to do with morals, but what's the point of playing a game just to be Outcast's punching bag?

Damn I love this. Oh, I really do, I really do. I haven't been so excited about anything for centuries. It's when some expert who knows so much more than you (and keeps telling you so) makes some elementary errors AND (what's even worse) can't do something very very very very very very very easy AND you notice AND get to point all these things out to him in a really smart-arsed way. Damn I love this.

FIRST, he (who shall remain anonymous for the sake of Knightly kindness) makes a mistake in a LINK to Babajaga's Diary (of course I checked it. I see Baba's name and click automatically. Can't resist it.) A real mistake. A real one. Trust me. AND THEN, he can't find the URL for something that is really really really really really really really really really easy. I mean EASY! Really easy. http://www.oberin.com. How hard can that be to find, I ask you? NOT VERY.

And he has the cheek to call ME a slovenly Knight!!!!!!!! I ask you. The cheek of the man. Damn. I almost feel like using the f-word. But thoughts of Tove restrain me.

Eat yer heart out, Mr. Anonymous W-man. And have I got news for you??!! Don't let this be widely known, but writing my diary does not often bring me to orgasm. Sex does. I know, I know, it's only one thing, but (in my narrow mind) it's a biggie.

And while we are on the subject of thoughts of Tove, well... the least said the better I suppose. I decided I wasn't going to use this diary to spout all kinds of personal things, so I guess I won't. Let me stick to sarcastic and shallow comments on those I see around me, and remain hidden behind that wall I was telling you all about before. Before I expurgated that passage, that was, because I was afraid of people finding out that such a wall even exists, or that I have anything to hide behind it. Whatever.

But I've been reading all kinds of other interesting diaries. From links on Worf's page. Correct links that is. Not the incorrect ones, which aren't very helpful in fact. Shepherd delights, as expected. As does the anonymous CL journal which is, of course, not anonymous at all. I even read Worg's journal. Once. Surprising in some ways, but not in others. He still hasn't even bothered to reply to my emails about my name appearing on his list in public. Wanker. I read Norm and Lundar regularly, and Raiine also. Hard to keep up though. Poor old Raiine seems to be in a little hot water, but not a great deal is specified. I'll have to make sure the Knight is kind to her. If I knew whether or not I was a friend of the writer of Terato's journal then I would know whether or not to be concerned about not being a friend after reading the journal. But too much depressive introspection makes for dull reading I fear. Lighten up, man. Use the f word. Be vulgar. Hey, it works for me. I'm still sane. I think. Am I? You've made me wonder now.

Holy shit. Look at all those lovely links. Time to quit while I'm ahead.

This is what happens when a foolish Knight decides to nip through the OC and Snagglewood and head off to Bones. Why did he decide to do that? Because he had heard that some pathfinders were there practising on Wisher's Gate after the new update, and he wanted to be part of the action. Did the action want him? As it turns out it appears not, but does the Knight care? NO!

At any rate, with the kind help of Sala Dragon and J'nder (both of whom I like tremendously. Damn, I left the J team off the list also. I think. Silly bugger I am. A big wave and an apology to J'nder and J'jh both. Luv ya. And you're damn right about the gun thing. Actually, spurred by HGM comments about murder rates I actually looked up the NZ murder rates compared to the US ones. Depending on how the computation is done the NZ rate is from 2 to 6 times smaller, per capita, than the U.S. rate. And that doesn't begin to count accidental deaths to guns. More complicated than just gun control of course, as Merlisk said in his eloquent and highly intelligent post. Anyway, where was I. Oh yes, end the bracket.) There.

So, anyway, after being rescued the Knight heads off with J'nder to Wisher's Gate. Baba is there being very coy about something, and is just about the tell the Knight what the hell is going on when, hey presto, off goes everybody into the next few snells. So Sleipy tags along. Gets to the next pathway, and it turns out that Sleipy is the only one who can open it. Huzzah! So he promptly does just that, and then heads back to check out the return path (and run from all the Orga nasties about to pound on him). But is life simple? NOOOOO. Sleipy ends up back in Bones. So Fuck, says I, run around a little dodging orga shit, but finally die. Probably to a rat. Fuck says I again. Depart time. Meanwhile I'm getting all kinds of useful messages like (to take a random example) Elenis' helpful contribution of "Well, *that* was really clever, wasn't it?" or some such words to that effect. Hmmm.... Up yours, think I. So, depart time. The Knight departs. Wooops, not clever it seems. Yor wets his pants for a start. And Baba ain't too happy I can tell, although she has learnt by now not to say too much. But the Knight ain't taking any shit from no dumb Zo, and so a few verbal sparks fly. Oh dear. I don't think I'll hold my breath waiting for a formal invitation to another Wisher's Gate outing.

But I don't (seriously) understand the fuss. Sleipy wasn't invited on the hunt, he was just tagging along. It was a safe assumption that nobody would give a shit if he fell (except Baba, of course). He didn't ask for a rescue, or expect one. Didn't toggle anyone. Just departed immediately, and notified Baba where he was. I just don't get it. I suppose the difference was that he could open the path. Suddenly his death was important for a change, as it interrupted everybody else's hunt. But then a warning would have been useful. Ah well. Who's to understand all these serious types? Not I, for sure.

Babe (and Tove) were very coy about some big secret for quite a while before they finally spilled the beans. Turns out that Cutlas has got the hots for Baba and is courting her formally with flowers. For some reason this made Tove and Baba both very nervous. I was just surprised that a Pogue person was interested in anything except rank statistics. (With the exception of Althea, of course). However that may be, Baba finally got up the nerve to tell Sleipy about this, but he's not bothered in the slightest of course. He's learned his lesson well. Finally. But I hope Cutlas is prepared for some vitriolic verbal battles. And I hope he doesn't get ooc mad at me.

But then it suddenly occured to me that Tove may have been so nervous as she was actually trying to tell me something quite different, and wasn't sure how I would take it. You see, Baba and Sleipy are a most unlikely pair. Sleipy is not at all suitable for Baba. When I clanned a lot this wasn't so obvious. But now it is. We move in very different circles, do completely different things, have different interests and desires. So (it seems to me) it would be only sensible for Tove to want to hook Baba up with someone who shares Baba's interests and things. Someone who would be there for her a lot more than Sleipy is.

I have always felt this way, to some extent, despite assurances from Tove to the contrary. Sleipy gains a lot from being associated with Baba, 'cause she's a superfighter and a major player in the game. But what does Baba get from Sleipy that she couldn't get from someone more at her level? I don't know. Obviously the ooc friendship would remain unaffected.

So, one wonders, is the nervousness over Cutlas a symptom of Tove's impatience, her desire to move Baba on, and a sign that she wishes to do so but is nervous about discussing this with me?



		Couldn't resist putting these two beautiful pictures up. Zyzyz is obviously more important in RL than she (or is it he?) is in CL. 'Cause in CL he (or she) is a just a loud-mouthed little fraud (whom I love dearly of course). Thanks to whoever sent me this photo. Of course I can't remember who it was now. Mind like a sieve, that's me. As for Baba and Fish-Boy being twins, you know, I always wondered.

You'll all be delighted to hear that the inevitable happened, and I got soundly chastised by Baba (and Tove) for my puerile and pathetic remarks above. Why is it that males are *sooooo* pathetic? (I could hear her thinking). This ego thing seems to be a real problem doesn't it. How embarassing. Oh dear, now I'm blushing.

So it seems that my brilliant idea (which, admit it, had an awful lot of merit in a sort of original and creative way) turned out to be a pile of crap. Well, this happens to me often I fear. And Baba won't be running off with that big ugly Zo for a while yet.


	I had to laugh and laugh at the anonymous clanners description of Valentine's Day, and her very special present. Ouch. I hope you were careful with the nicks and scratches. Actually, I completely agree. Valentine's Day is total bullshit, and I point blank refuse to buy a Valentine's gift for anybody. Like it or lump it. And I'm still married so it can't be all bad. Of course that dumb Knight got a present for Baba and then clean forgot to give it to her, he was thinking so much of his new pieces that he just wrote. A special one for Algernon, and one for Chum. Ack, not a clever idea that. And while we're on that topic I've decided to put up a web page with my music on it so that any other bard can play my pieces if they want to. It seems to be a sort of Bardly thing to do, so I'm doing it.



		A lovely conversation with the (less-than-ideally-polite) Tara. But was she referring to Cutlas, or was she referring to the Knight? That is the million dollar question of course! I like to believe she was referring to the Knight. And Baba will believe that also, or else.
	Not much happening in CL, mostly because I've been too busy to play it. Had to miss the Dunilsar against BOI, and I still don't even know who won. Had to miss the Bards' Concert and the auditions too. Ack. And I wanted to go to those, I really did. Instead, duty called. Duty, that is, in the sense of going sailing (and fishing). Sailed down to Mairangi Bay, threw out an anchor, went for a swim, and caught some fish. Took a friend and two of his kids. They managed to stay on board the boat, fortunately. Just about lost my two kids though, as the tide carried them away from the boat. Hence my own swim, cause I had to go in to fish them out again. No great damage done. Really busy week just started. Really. Playing 7 times for a start, and teaching has started too. Ouch. A most interesting Saturday night last weekend. Private party. I wasn't all that well, some kind of stomach bug, and was doped up on pills, no food, and tired tired tired from the night before. Then I made the mistake of drinking too much beer on top of all that. Not clever. So, feeling high as a kite and having lost all my remaining inhibitions, in the first break I make a beeline for one of the lithe young things (dressed in the obligatory black) squirming around on the dance floor. Got the mind-boggling response of extreme interest. Immediate rush of hormones, and primitive responses take charge. Anyway, so there I am flirting away quite happily when suddenly realisation hits me as fatigue and pills and beer all realign inside me and bring me crashing down. Bump. What the fuck am I doing? think I. I'm 80 years older than this young lady.What a fucking idiot. End of conversation. Rest of the gig was hard work. A male's responses to females are pretty weird. Programmed to respond to youth and good looks, no matter how inappropriate. Mind you, most of the lithe young things turn out to be rather brainless, which is never very attractive. Not so this last one I fear, and hence the total humiliation. I don't often do much mingling with the crowd, and now I know why. I think I'll write a trio for CL. Not sure how to yet, but it'll be an interesting challenge. If anybody knowledgeable is reading this, give me hand, do.

My six year old son plays a Halfling fighter, called Bunbel. Has no idea how to share or talk or fight or play the game, but he loves it. Can't shut him up. Thinks Babajaga is the coolest thing in the universe. Soooooo strooooooong. Wow. I bet Babajaga can kill these Dad, says he. Yes, says I, grimacing, I bet she can. Cooooool, says Paul. I bet you can't, Dad. No, says Dad, I can't. Wow, says Paul, she must be really really strong. Yes, says Dad. And so it goes.

So if you see Bunbel in the lands (or Sabaria, who is my daughter's character) give him a coin. It'll make his day, and therefore mine too. And cut him a little slack when he never shares the healers, and then gets in everybody's way.

19th or so

Having just read SWC's comments on privacy I am stimulated to write my own comments on that sad affair. About what affair you ask? Well, about the clan Pogue Mahone reaching the NorthEastern Foothills, and then enforcing, by threats and otherwise, almost total silence about how they got there. In other words, doing everything in their power to prevent others getting there too. They will, of course, be ultimately unsuccessful, as try though they might they cannot prevent others reaching these places. And in any case it makes absolutely no difference to Sleipy. Even if the path were presently common knowledge he still wouldn't have a shit show of actually going there.

Nevertheless, despite the total lack of importance to Sleipy in this respect, this affair is important in other ways, bothering me almost entirely in an OOC manner. It is probably the most blatant example of unbridled selfishness, of breathtaking discourtesy and boorishness, yet displayed in the game. Now many will argue that PM are entitled to play the game any way they choose, and this is how they want to do it. Well, of course, you're absolutely correct. It is their "right" to behave as boorishly as they wish, just as it is anybody's "right" never to give a single coin away out of generosity, never to say a kind word to any other exile, never to help anybody else unless their own profit is assured. We all know that many people live their RL lives in exactly this manner, and we despise them. And if it were just the PM behaving in this manner it would be unsurprising. I doubt anybody has high expectations of players like Blitz, Cygnus, Arocet, Devil, Baff, Baffette, or Klur. Wankers they are, and no doubt wankers they shall remain. Fair enough. Quite often in this life wankers do very well for themselves, as long as you consider only things that don't really matter very much.

But what really bothers me in this affair is how this unprincipled selfishness has spread to others, of whom one would never previously have expected such behaviour. By participating in these PM "secrets", by keeping silence when instructed, other exiles have become implicit accomplices, willing to acquiesce in such selfishness out of fear of the loss of future personal benefits.

Such people should be the first to stand up to be counted, to say that this is unacceptable, that the PM are really just behaving like foolish children, devoid of courtesy and in dire need of parental correction. PM need to be told that no, you can't eat all the cookies in the jar. They need to be taught, as one teaches children, that sharing is the only socially acceptable policy. You have to let your friend play with your teddy bear. You mustn't scream just because your brother takes one of your lollipops. You have to play nicely, little Johnnie, or your friends won't come to visit any more.

But few stand up to say this. Instead, willing or unwilling accomplices in the secrecy, they condone by their silence where they should correct by their example.

When push has finally come to shove, the wrong choices have been made, and by some of those I value most in the game.

And this bothers me.

26th or so

Yeah, OK, so it wasn't such a long break. Sue me. I found it impossible to remain foul-tempered for all that long, the whole damn thing just became so amusing. After Vagile's Red Mahone just about made me wet my pants, and after some anonymous but very rude person from New Zealand had vented a little with obscene limericks, I found myself rapidly regaining a proper sense of proportion. A long chat with Tove helped.

So, first up, apologies to Mary. It's none of my business what you choose to do, and it's not my business to comment on your motivations, particularly in public. And this diary is indeed a public place that gives no right of reply. I was wrong, I should have known better, and I'm sorry. And if anybody else is expecting an apology for me being rude to them, dream on. Mary is a special case.

And it was lovely that Babajaga was part of the team that finally found the big secret, which is now no longer a big secret. I'm very pleased for both her and Tove, even though this means that I won't see either of them ever again probably, as Baba disappears into the Dread Passage, nevermore to reappear. But she'll have fun.

Coriakin has offered to help me with a trio, Huzzah Huzzah. Must send him some email. Actually, I'll do it right now...... Done. Bass, guitar and lead trios coming soon to a supermarket near you.

Busy band period over now. No gigs for a week. Nice to have a rest. Just as well, too, as teaching is just as much of a pain as ever. Work would be OK if it wasn't for the bloody students.

And it never rains but it pours, he says, thinking of more lithe things dressed in black on dance floors. Although this one wasn't quite so young, and wasn't on the dance floor (cause there isn't one at Rakino's). But still lithe and beautiful and dressed in black. And this time I wasn't tripping on pills and booze, and so could respond rather more appropriately. What are you doing after the gig, she says? How do you like to relax? Do you like to go drinking, or to a dance club? Or do you prefer to just go straight to bed? She really like you, chimes in Friend A (stage left). She's no Lady, chimes in Friend B (stage right). Poor me, stuck in the middle. Fucking hell I think, I'm actually fucking blushing! I don't believe it. By this time, of course, the perfect opportunity for saying .... er.... I'm married.... had passed by at high speed, nevermore to be regained.

What the fuck do I say? The temptation to say, hell, OK, let's go party, is almost irresistible. Hormones are carousing through my blood stream in high concentrations. But some residual caution stops me. I've given in before, and the result is always, always, disaster. Always. So ......... Oh, says I, I always just go straight home after gigs, 'cause I'm really tired. Oh, look, time to work again, band's waiting, gotta fly, sorry, nice to meet you. Pretend I didn't hear anything about telephone numbers. Just get *out* of there before you do something fucking stupid. I must really be getting old. 60 years ago I would have hesitated all of a microsecond. And then only to make sure my nose wasn't running.

This doesn't happen often, and hence the blushing when it does happen. It happens a lot to some musicians I suppose, but not to me. There are reasons for that of course. Don't ask what they are, because my total lack of personal beauty is none of your damn business. I married an exceptionally beautiful woman to make up for it. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm biased, but really, it's true. A woman whom, let me add, I love very deeply, despite some of the silly things I've done. And I actually tell her about all the episodes with lithe things dressed in black. Fortunately, she finds them funny.

Enough. I really must stick more to Clan Lord. A diary can become far too narcissistic, which is something to be avoided.


	I have just discovered my secret kink. After reading Worf's diary it is quite clear to me that I am a submissive. All his comments on excessive politeness, saying "Yes Ma'am", always doing what I'm told, obeying orders. I mean to say, just look at Sleipy on the left. Gotta be a submissive that fellow. Me too. I hope that saying "Yes Dear" works also. Perhaps I need Nori training to become extra specially proficient? Could be. Would she take me on? Hmmm.... One wonders. Well, one doesn't really. But seriously, it's another world out there. And on the left we see an entry from another of my characters. It seems I have a penchant for annoying characters.


An amazing clan meeting. More than two people showed up. Unbelievable. And Ataru joined. I can't say as how I know him really well, but I like what I've seen so far. Off to Noth to fall, and (of course) I have to dash off just as things get interesting.

		Courtesy is always important.

28th. Last day of February? Maybe.

Holy fuck, Nori, I was just kidding. OK? Kidding. Really, I was, I was. I'm NOT a submissive, hell no, no fucking way. So don't even think about getting out yer cane. Don't even think about thinking it.

I'm speechless and so must resort to profanity again. Holy Fuck. And poose too. If I ever come within 100 yards of Nori may the sweet Lord Jesus watch over me with care and attention. And yes, yes, yes, I'll get the Knights to do just whatever you want. Anything. I will, really, I will. And anyway, I'm a dominant. Yeah, that's right. As long as you're OK with that.

The world is suddenly a much more dangerous place. (Do we get a photo of the full regalia? *grin*).

Keep smiling Worf. Remember how educational your pain is. Well, for me anyway.

And for the lovely anonymous clanner, you clearly don't understand how disturbing it is for us males to have to read about menstruation. It gives us palpitations and leg cramps. It causes emotional imbalance and distress. I almost wet my pants. (Or maybe it was Nori did that). But REALLY, you journal writers ought to have a little more bloody consideration. In a single morning I had to suffer through a caning AND a girlie talk involving the M word. And then students on top of that.

"How many students passed this course last year Professor?" asks anonymous student
"I have no (fucking) idea (you fucking dipshit)" replies anonymous Professor
(short silence........)
"Is this an easy math course?" asks anonymous student
"Yes. I find it very easy", says anonymous Professor.
(short silence....)
"(Now just piss off)", thinks anonymous Professor.


	Introduction and Archives		Latest pathetic writings

HWC's Diary. Read it at your peril.

February 2001

19th or so

26th or so

28th. Last day of February? Maybe.