January 25, 2010


(a writing assignment. I've, again, not posted for more than ten days. I hope my apologies don't sound a little fake. I really wish I could post at least every other day. My fault I can't.)

For the casual reader of Tintin, Tintin's origins are vague. The series starts with him looking in his late teens, and ends, 23 adventures later, much the same. It's hard to decide how old he is at any one point in the series. It's just fairly clear that he's not old enough to be a professional policeman, and, yet, he accomplishes much of a policeman's duties with much more ease, and, in a few cases, much more comedy.

The first three books are, by far, the most funny. The author, Georges Prosper Remi, more frequently referred to simply as Hergé, incorporates humor, especially in the first, TIntin in the Land of the Soviets, that is not at all unlike that which was so frequently put into Merry Melodies and Looney Tunes cartoons. Tintin somehow manages to quickly reconstruct a hand-run railway trolly, with some miraculously in-shape parts from an also conveniently located junk yard, into a working car. 

The tone of Tintin's adventures seldom revisits this perhaps slightly joyous view of things, but Herge's humor, in following adventures, does not wane in the least. While the first and second's scripts might have been written by a ten-year-old, the following nearly two dozen are fantastic in their own way.

Snowy, Tintin's faithful wire fox terrier, often inserts his opinion into the well-organized cloud of speech bubbles, seldom affecting things that way. Later on, he shows some distaste the adventures Tintin so frequently finds himself in. Snowy's faithfulness is marred only by his fantastic delight in both alcohol and bones, in several instances leading him to put either himself or his master in danger.

The fun really starts on the ninth adventure, when Tintin first meets Captain Haddock, an old sea dog who's drunk likely twice as often as not. He is first found, in the series, as captain of a ship whose cargo largely consists of opium, and this, without his knowledge. As the story goes on, the captain's friendship to Tintin grows, while his love for alcohol either grows, or stays the same. In the end, he is permanently prevented from drinking ever again, something which caused the Captain to form a great dislike toward Professor Calculus, whose ears function more like that Broken Telephone people always try to use, for some reason.

Herge's Tintin is also famous for another reason. Herge is sometimes credited for having created a style of comic artistry, in which the entire frame is filled with detail, no matter how far in the distance the frame goes. On occasion, Herge spoils readers with fantastic full-page frames, capturing the action or beauty of a scene with more color and space. His later works, specifically Flight 714, become decidedly more serious, while still maintaining the occasional comic relief, mostly from the secondary characters.

The reasons to read Tintin are numerous and fantastic. Likely half of the vocabulary Captain Haddock uses throughout the series is composed of insults. Professor Calculus' constant misinterpretations of peoples' words is a guaranteed bellylaugh inducer, and, if I were to decide, children all over the world would be reading these books. If Herge hasn't created a classic in Tintin, I've read half as many.


January 15, 2010

7. The Author Uses Up Space

(regrettably, the author did not feel like going through the intricacies of stalking in any detail whatsoever. Also, sorry for not posting for MORE THAN A WEEK. *bangs wall on head about fifteen times*)

Links to all the other chapters...

1. A Jackrabbit Down
2. No Control Freak (contains first part of chapter 3...you could either start chapter 3 here, or merely move on to the next link)
3. Home
4. Tripped
5. The Clock Ticks (this chapter, for some stupid reason, has gone unposted for over half a year! Enjoy!)
6. A Break
7...oh. Right. Nevermind.

7. The Author Uses Up Space

It was nearly three weeks later, and, for Jack, nothing had changed, but the magnitude of his love, and, thereby, the magnitude of the clumsiness that had never occurred in his life before. He slept the same amount of time, roughly, but seldom felt rested. He had begun to lose weight at a rather insignificant rate, but Jack, however occupied he was with thinking about the girl and wondering what her day was going like (managing to restrain himself, most of the time, from finding out), he cared, and attempted to reverse this effect which seemed obviously related to his recent acquisition of what is hard to describe but with the word crush, these days. These efforts notwithstanding, Jack continued to maintain a weight which, though not greatly less than what he felt he should weigh, was enough, at this time, to occupy some of his time with greater efforts in exercising himself, as well as a reason to consume more water. Eventually, his efforts seemed to pay off, relieving him, somewhat, yet giving him no solace for his incredibly turbulent inner tempest.

Given all these circumstances, and given that the reader understands their gravity, one may begin to think he was less threatened by bullets and fists than by himself, by means of his usually well-contained emotions. Somehow, though, what wouldn't be badly described as a ticking time bomb kept on ticking, for a long, long time. It actually gave him some small pleasure, thinking that he had held out against one of mankind's greater vices for so long...or was it a vice? I fear making my judgment on the issue would not be prudent.

Jack woke up one day, having showered the previous night, with hair not dissimilar in shape, to a reasonably round cactus. Could he be blamed? Actually, yes. Why? If it's not obvious, I hereby sentence you to a life oblivious of a mere triviality, something I've yet to live through to completion.

Some would say Jack's life was ruined from the moment he woke up on. I think I could agree, but only to a degree, extent, or point. Jack made himself some toast and tried hard, for about ten seconds, to find something more substantial to eat. Proclaiming failure before the starting flag had touched the ground, he immediately removed himself to the living room, where Xink resided bodily, and also acted as if she were a faster machine. Jack flipped out of his mildly dazed state (one which he had been in for literally weeks) with an idea. Had Xink some way of reading his mind, her well-powered speakers would be reorienting his eardrums to a more fragmented state. As it was, she merely had the instant to notice Jack's change before he had the plug in his hand and out of the wall.

Jack didn't take an unhealthy amount of pride in his mechanical abilities, but he was strong, and metal was strong. Obviously, they had to meet up sometime and have a showdown. In Jack's case, he felt it ought to be more than occasionally. Thus, Xink, as she was before he unplugged her, was a mere nine months old, give or take a couple seconds. Given this, to Jack's sadness, he could not reasonably upgrade the whole system to new standards all around. However, Jack took pleasure in the mere ability to take something apart and put it back together, possibly even better than it was before. In this case, the latter part merely means he removed the minute amount of dust that had accumulated over the several months. Jack's mind, surprisingly, strayed from thoughts of the girl for the precious minutes that Xink occupied him. Sadly, the amount he could do was rather little. He almost regretted he didn't have the tools to take apart the individual components into their even smaller parts.

Xink was herself again within the hour, but Jack felt no greater for the experience. He quickly returned to the torture that was incumbent with loving but not knowing whether the love was returned. Jack feared, even more, though, that his love might be returned, and that the girl, let alone himself, might be worse off because of it. He was not sure that, however calm and careful he might appear on the outside, he would be able to control himself should his emotions play any role in what he did in the real world.

Worse, the school year was coming to an end. Instead of his usual desire to see the girl, he was now afraid of the more copious chances he would find to do exactly that. Even more did he fear the possibility that she already avidly returned his love, and that she would seek him out to tell him.

The author is somewhat sad, but also somewhat happy, at this time, to make the reader know that the girl is not the stupid girl mentioned in the title. Perhaps it's good, perhaps it's bad, but the author decided that less than a minute ago.

Jack's day ended like so many others had in the last few weeks, with him doing his nightly exercises and hitting the sack, whatever that means.

I hope this will prove to be the beginning of another bout of chapters...hopefully.


January 05, 2010

The Whole Shebang

Really. If you're looking for something light and easy to get through, look elsewhere. I have more than a hundred pictures (including only a few of the previous post's contents) that I'm going to post in this post.




Anywho. Due to the rather greater number of photos, I'll only be commenting occasionally. Actually, I'll probably end up delaying this post a few days and thoroughly commenting on them all. Just wanted you to know.

Syrafoam. Or however it's supposed to be spelled. I was coming home from Colorado and adventure to Minnesota, home, and boredom. Ok, not that bad, but, still.

NOTICE: this might not be my photo. My siblings had an annoying tendency, with my previous camera, the Powershot SD1000, to grab it and take it off somewhere. Due to this, I can't be absolutely sure that every single one of these is my picture. However, unless I'm unsure, I will not mention it at all in following pictures. In other words, only the ones that might not be mine will have annoying notices that waste your time reading, and not looking.

I rotated this one (might have posted it on my earlier post), so it could better be used as a wallpaper (I'm submitting, I think, all of these pictures, perhaps more, to the Ubuntu Wallpaper Contest...yahoo!)

Supposing the quality of this picture is no less at 1600x1200 than it is at this resolution, 640x480, this is probably my best Morning Glory photo ever.

Our room door in California. (oh, darn, yeah, that's where we were, not Colorado...)

Fairly recent short of a pitcher of water. I put Quivie underneath set to lamp and took a bunch of these photos with exposure set to -2. Totally awesome, in some of them. (a few more later on)

I somewhat regret that the flower isn't entirely on the frame of this picture, but the sharpness and color are simply some of the best I've ever gotten. I also kind of wish there could have been sun at that time, especially if it were of the morning.

I think I've posted this before...I just took a picture of one of those awesome, fuzzy grass thingys. Nice focus.

I hate to say this, but I don't know what this is. The potential ridicule I'd receive for saying what I think it is, but it (probably) isn't...is enough to stop me. Har har.

Again, I regret having double "I'm Feeling Lucky"'d this. Blah. Kinda nice, though.

I often find it sad that there isn't a way to have the whole of a rather bulgy flower in focus. Perhaps I should have taken two photos in order to get both of 'em. Yikes, I should try that...

Again. Nice color, but I haven't fiddled with it in the GIMP or anything to brighten it up or anything. I might or might not have done that to various ones in following pictures (and preceding ones, to be overly inclusive...).

I keep asking myself whether that looks real or not. Well, it is. That strawberry is now, in whatever way, a part of me. No, I couldn't have said anything better about it.

Powderhorn Lake, near our house. This shot is probably the best I've got of it. Oh! That reminds me! I'll add the panorama I did of Powderhorn at the end of this post. Gonna be big...

Edited majorly. However, this shot was pretty epic even before I Gimped it. Oh. It's ice cubes. Same place as the pitcher, same light source. I've discovered rather more thoroughly that light makes the picture by using Quivie for it...I'll have to do it more.

The light, the focus, perhaps even the composition of this photo just make me gulp. If you say that's an ineffective thing to say, seriously, I did just gulp when I scrolled down to this picture.

This is another photo I wonder whether I took...but, I assure myself, NONE of my siblings could have! So I rest assured. Again, lovely.

I think, perhaps, I shouldn't have enhanced the color on this one so much. It's a good picture, but perhaps better if it looks a tad drearier than this does now. Anywho.

Better. The greens aren't so bright. I don't really know which one I like better, as original photographs, but this one has perspective, which kinda rocks a lot.

Small cliffish thing in Wyoming, if I remember correctly.

Again...different angle

Probably still in Wyoming, but a different rest stop. Maybe even a gas station, but I don't think I'd get out for that.

Wo. Is that upside-down? No way! I couldn't have done a 180 just for kicks!

Moss. Or lichen. On a rock.

I have NO idea what that is, but I got a good picture of it! (actually, that could apply to a good majority of my plant/flower/whatever photos)

For some reason, I felt like examining a telephone pole rather closely. Actually, it might not be a telephone pole. Oh, well.

Blah. Not great. Just tiny.

On the Salt Flats. Lots 'o salt, and awful flat.

SALT! *choke*

One 'o them whatchamading holes. Hamster? Chinchilla? Prairie dog! Yikes, my memory's not what it used to be.

A small pool of water, that's all. Probably amazingly salty, too.

I just hate how blurry that is. Even though it's hardly blurry at all.

Coming home from Cold Stone, as I recall. (yikes, my memory's got quick attitude changing)

Nice picture of some grass stuff having LIGHT fry it alive. Er. Dead.

Almost cliche.

Why did I submit this one? That's never gonna win.


I can't understand why I didn't use/know about this picture more/sooner.

Gravel. And the Blakes' ATV. (awesome transportation vehicle)

Clover. Aga...wait. Is that clover? Anyway. Again...wait. I forgot what I was going to say.

My microphone. I haven't found a good use for it yet, but it's nice to have something that looks more like a microphone than a cheese stick.

Pretty colors!

Italian soda, I think. Root beer. Bubbles. Droplet thingys?

Pretty colors STRIKE BACK!

Return of the Pretty Colors? Don't got no RING anymore.

Bubbles and droplets again. Dunno if it's better. I advise you don't try to comment on over a hundred pictures at one time, like I am.

Again. OH! Droplets on the outside! Dude, that does look pretty epic.

Pretty colors return of the strike back! Nah, that doesn't work too well...

Coolness. Nah, it's probably over seventy.

Comments, from this point on, are certified insane, because I'm trying to get more than half of them done before midnight.

I love macro.

I wish I'd focused on the cards instead of the table, but it's sharp...and kinda abstract. Oh, well.

A daisy? Really, I wouldn't know. Not my favorite picture of a flower, by a long shot.

ORANGE. I'd say 'nuff said, but I don't particularly like that specific colloquialism.

Not sure whether this is a new (not posted yet) picture of milkweed, but it's probably one of my best.

Bleeding Hearts. Nice focus, but it's not as well-composed as the one that won me 50 dollars. Oh, well.

This one's probably the best-composed, focussed, and colored one of this specific milkweed that I've got. Yay.



Lovely. There's a sense in which it would be harder to describe it with more words, and a way in which it's harder to describe it with one word. Either way, lovely.

Nice foreground/background focus contrast. Nice colors.

Yay unfocused foreground! Or whatever! Anyway.

Another pretty good morning glory shot.

Drop on a leaf. Niicee. I've probably done "I'm Feeling Lucky" on a lot of these ones.

Again...nice angle.

Great brightness. Maybe a tad too great.

Dewy and dull violetish. Coolio.


Fudgemuffin, my dear droplet, fudgemuffin.

GAH! These things are tiny, for those of you who weren't aware. I think probably about an eighth of an inch each. Nahhh. A sixteenth. (see? I deal only in powers of two!)

In some ways, unopened morning glories are just as pretty as opened ones.

Mostly the good focus that earned this one a place on the list.


Different angle on a morning glory unopened. Agree with me?

They kinda look mildly scarred. Weird. I never use flash on flowers.

Another of that weird one. *shrug*


A sort of...seed holder thing for one of the flowers here. A little loose with the brightness, aren't we, Noah?

NICE FOCUS, Noah. Sunlight's not a bad effect, either.

Ah! Here's the flower of the aforementioned seed dingamabob.

Morning Glory. I wish I could have the whole thing in focus at an angle, again...

TINY, again.
See? Those are average blades of grass! Told you so!

Holy cow, Noah, careful with that macro!


Notice the AWESOME focus on that leaf to the leftish.

Do I have to say anything? As long as you're not blind, and have read a couple books, you can come up with plenty of adjectives to describe this beauty.

Say no more!

Wiltin', but beautiful!

This shot was taken on a whim while about half a dozen people were calling my name from the opposite direction for reasons I can no longer remember. Again, I'll just not say anything. Strangely enough, I was thinking I took this mere seconds after asking a girl to dance. Thinking about it more, I doubt it.

Rainy day, time to spare, and a swing set to accumulate the former. Yahoo.


THE AWESOME ONE...I need to quit doing that.

Nice reflection, good focus. Great for abstraction.



Losing it. Darn.

Not bad. Different angle. Sorta harder to see what you're seeing. Or I'm seeing. Shut up, Noah.

This one's kinda cool in a way the others aren't. FIGURE IT OUT.

Specifically thought the folks down at Ubuntu (or would it be up? Hmm) would like this one. Non-epic focus, but great...subject...




Again. Maybe better shot.

Frost again. From above, this time.


I think the focus could conceivably be criticized, but the subject, contrast, colors, and almost everything else make up for it easily.

Probably one of my best

A...I'm not even going to guess.

Gah, why am I still commenting? some of these are from the previous post!


Sharp, dullish. Whatever.

AGAIN! Repeated.

Again. *glare*

YAY! ORIGINALI...holy cow...wait a MINUTE.

Oh, well. Crazy endeavors like this always end up whacking out in whatever way. Well, anyway, that's just about it. Just a few more.

A different picture of that leaf. I think I posted it last time. Fail.

More of Quivie's light! Yay!

I don't usually have the scroll wheel light on. Lovely blue. Irritatingly bright.

My table number in the Government exam time.

More of Quivie's light. I hate that I thought of this only when we decided to leave the resteraunt.

A saucer with one of Gregory's rubber bands in it. Blaaah.


I messed with the contrast/brightness of this one, but I still want to erase the lights. Blah.


I just took this and composed it in Canon's panorama thing...and it's pretty thumpin' good, if I'm any good judge.

Well, I can honestly say that 1. Took a long time. 2. Was fun. 3. it will hopefully not make my blog a BAJILLION pixels long for a long time. Anyway. I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to use any of my pictures in any non-commercial pursuit, as long as you attribute the credit to me! In other words, yeah, feel free to make these your wallpapers for decades on end, as long as you let anyone know (who asks) that a weirdo called NOAH BERTILSON in MINNESOTA spent much of his sweat and blood making it. Anyway. I hope you enjoyed it!

Soli deo gloria!