SDO

Things and Stuff.

Pay It Forward

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In 2000, a movie called “Pay It Forward” came about. In it, a social studies teacher gives his second-grade students a task for extra credt: come up with an idea to make the world a better place. The main character, a student, comes up with the idea he calls paying forward. Person A does three favors, for Persons B, C, and D. Then each of these people does three favors for three different people, so after just two tiers of this idea, twelve people have had their life made better in some way. The favors are to be done unasked and without any expectation or return: the person helped must simply pay it forward as well.

In the movie, the student starts his idea by taking a vagrant home and lets him clean up and get food. The child explains the PIF idea to him. The vagrant then learns that the child’s mother takes a taxi to work every day because her truck is broken down. The vagrant pays forward by repairing the truck. The vagrant noves on, and the idea spreads as he does his remaining favors. (Do watch the movie some time, the whole thing is wonderful, even if it is a bit long.)

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HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA.odt

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One must understand that in this profession there is a likelihood of hearing firsthand a man’s descent into madness. It is not often that this is heard, however, as most patients are brought to us already gripped by insanity’s claws, their conscious mind torn by their subconscious nightmares. A man submitted himself to our care today, fearing that the uneasiness he suffered mirrored that of his wife, whom he some months ago left in our care after she attempted her life. I will not give names as it is not in our practice to give away details without an estate’s consent, however, as no from their estate has seen or heard from this couple in some time, they will not know this story to be theirs.

Our first meeting with this man, for our purposes we shall call him Adam, was a half year or so ago. He brought to us his wife, whom we shall call Eve. She was a shy, quiet woman nearing her thirtieth birthday and looking not a day over twenty. She bore no outward appearance of being as mad as Adam described her to be, which he did so as if she wasn’t even in the room.

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Progress

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duct tape medipack

duct tape, styrofoam, cardboard

Bonesaw.

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I saw a How-To by Propmedic/Juego/Yoink/Wossname on how he made his bonesaw. First thought: AWESOME. Second thought: I want one. Third thought: I want mine a little thinner and a little longer.

So I made an outline.
bonesaw outline 1
20″ bonesaw from handle to tip. I cut one piece from some black mounting board using this pattern. Then I painted the blade part with some liquid silver I had leftover from another project.

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Repetition

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(originally written 13 April 2004)

As I walk down the darkened hall, my gun trembled in my hands. I had never been forced to use such a thing in all my days, but now I needed it more than ever. I glanced at the walls in the flickering light, trying to catch a glimpse of any movement in the projected shadows. In a brief flash ahead of me I saw one of the horrid things I was running from. Its pink, fleshy body leaned over the corpse of a man. The creature was easily a third the size of its prey, but I’ve seen them fight, and it frightened me more than anything in my life.

I stood in shock for a moment. I hoped to chance, I prayed to luck, that it did not see me. No thought of any higher power graced my mind as I searched for a place to hide. A God is only as real as the faith of his people, and his people were depleting rapidly. Centuries ago, one might assume these things to be demons summoned by occult rituals. But in this age of reason, Science replaced religion because it was more real. Rather than just tell of the horrible forces beyond our reach, it has now brought them to us.

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Legendary

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(Originally written 07 March 2005. Revised 15 March 2008)

I am legendary. That is to say, there are legends about me. I do not see why, as nothing I had done in life was worthy of legend. The stories about me happened after I died.

In life, I was a woman, and I did as women do. I served my husband faithfully; bore and raised his children. He defended our homeland, and I defended our home. I died as many women did in our time: a fatal blow to the head from an enraged husband. It matters not why he was angered, nor why he struck me. I was merely a housewife and this was my final reward for my years of servitude.
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