A word to the wise
Apr. 27th, 2009 10:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceWhen preparing sausage sandwiches for a packed lunch, some authorities would hold that it is actually quite important that you remember the need first to cook your sausages...
Sigh. Don't mind me, I'll be the man milling around here for the next twenty minutes or so, finding things to do while the sausages sizzle.
Cats are playing Hunt the Sausage, which involves a lot of staring at the sizzling pan from various vantage-points and the occasional bold foray towards the stove, where they try to lift out a banger without scorching their precious pawsies. I am not, not spending twenty minutes standing guard. They are welcome to a sossidge, if they can abstract one.
Memory is an odd thing. Apart from things like remembering to cook the sausages, mine fails me in so many other interesting and unusual ways. Short- or long-term, all is one.
I used to be a great player of games: from card-games to chess and go, board games, Scrabble, I covered the range. No longer: my competitive streak has either washed away or been buried. In the process of sorting out the office, I have constructed a small heap of games and puzzles that might as well go, as I will not play them again and the occasional nostalgic moments are not worth the space they take up.
One of these is Machiavelli, "a game of combat and politics in Renaissance Italy". We played this a lot, I remember: and yet, even sifting through the tokens and the charts and so forth, I have absolutely no memory of the gameplay. It's like remembering nothing of a once-favourite novel, nothing comes back to me at all.
I iz a tabula rasa. Palimpsests r us.
*goes to poke surviving sossidges*
ETA:
Evil Cat endeavours to steal sossidge sammich.
Nefarious plan is foiled by alert human.
Chaz is entirely to blame for the many and manifest woes of poor forlorn kitty.
So it goes.
Sigh. Don't mind me, I'll be the man milling around here for the next twenty minutes or so, finding things to do while the sausages sizzle.
Cats are playing Hunt the Sausage, which involves a lot of staring at the sizzling pan from various vantage-points and the occasional bold foray towards the stove, where they try to lift out a banger without scorching their precious pawsies. I am not, not spending twenty minutes standing guard. They are welcome to a sossidge, if they can abstract one.
Memory is an odd thing. Apart from things like remembering to cook the sausages, mine fails me in so many other interesting and unusual ways. Short- or long-term, all is one.
I used to be a great player of games: from card-games to chess and go, board games, Scrabble, I covered the range. No longer: my competitive streak has either washed away or been buried. In the process of sorting out the office, I have constructed a small heap of games and puzzles that might as well go, as I will not play them again and the occasional nostalgic moments are not worth the space they take up.
One of these is Machiavelli, "a game of combat and politics in Renaissance Italy". We played this a lot, I remember: and yet, even sifting through the tokens and the charts and so forth, I have absolutely no memory of the gameplay. It's like remembering nothing of a once-favourite novel, nothing comes back to me at all.
I iz a tabula rasa. Palimpsests r us.
*goes to poke surviving sossidges*
ETA:
Evil Cat endeavours to steal sossidge sammich.
Nefarious plan is foiled by alert human.
Chaz is entirely to blame for the many and manifest woes of poor forlorn kitty.
So it goes.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-27 09:42 am (UTC)And plotting. I've been reading Shelter. And dreaming about it. Eep.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-27 09:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-27 09:42 am (UTC)When I was a child I ran a fanzine devoted to these and made up several a day, though people were oddly reluctant to then spend years play-testing them by paper mail. Machiavelli was one of thousands (not mine) that somehow turned into a commercial game rather than coming out as a blurred photo-copy costing 1p.
The most fun innovations of it are being able to buy enemy armies (in the Condottieri tradition) and use the Dylanish phrase "How many Ducats for Durazzo?"
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-27 11:57 am (UTC)Still, the initial image ...
*boggles*
*shakes head*
*washes brainz*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-27 02:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-27 08:07 pm (UTC)Mind you, I found myself sniggering when my boss referred to today as a "Double banana day" so I am completely beyond the pale.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-28 07:32 am (UTC)"Hiding The Sausage"....
So many jokes so little time...
*g*