Symptoms of Cretinism

The dismissal bell sounds and I join the rush of people crowding at the clock, buzzing themselves away. The elevator is filled with faces known, unknown, and distant chatter of this and that's I wouldn't know. --After a hard day's work the walk is quiet through streetlamps and pavement and lovers reunited-- Maneuvering through rival passengers I jump into the first ride, and after the clink of coins and the rustling of bills, I look out the window, and watch the rest of the day pass me by.

Will post something else soon. I hope. For now, this (taken from Yo ): Read my VisualDNA ™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Okay, I am getting goosebumps from watching the trailer for the much-awaited Starcraft 2 . Blizzard has finally gotten off its lofty (not to mention moolah-generating) Warcraft throne to get to work on--what is, in my opinion--the sequel to best and most enjoyable real-time-strategy game of all time. There will still be three races--Protoss, Zerg and Terran--but each race has its own set of both new and revamped units. The story, on the other hand, takes off from the end of the Brood War expansion, where we will be sure to see the return of familiar characters like Kerrigan and Zeratul. This is Zeratul. Look at him and weep. Since it is also incidentally, my deadline here at work, I'm going to post a couple of screenshots so I can get my lazy ass back to work. Oh, and by the way, the spec requirements (all that is known about this is that there will be DirectX 10 only content--so best ready your wallets to buy 'em godlike video cards) and release date have yet to be announced...

She had always looked good in pictures. He had come across a collection of them stowed away in a square tin box he had put on top of the closet, years ago. She was smiling in this one, a black and white he had taken and developed himself. He remembered putting in the film on the projector and counting from one thousand one to one thousand fifteen for the image to burn into the paper. He would then wash it in chemicals and watch the picture slowly materialize. The picture would go to a tray and taken outside, where he would wait for it to dry. She had kissed him when he presented it to her, thanking him for making her look cute. Another black and white. This time she was putting food down on a mat they had set for a picnic. She had looked so perfect then – lover, friend, and future wife. He remembered fingering the ring in his pocket, nervous and ill-at-ease. When she asked him what was wrong, he went to one knee then and there, and asked if she could be his wife. She had laughed and hu...