Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

When two educated people break up, what happens? What if they have the same degree? Let’s have a look.

Psychologists

• The girl accuses the boy of using her as a replacement for his mother, in lieu of something better. Boy accuses girl of indecent relationship to cigars.

Sociology

• Both parties claim that the other party was suppressing them.

Archeology

• Boy attempts to bury past, girl keeps digging it up.

Drama

• OH MY GOD! Darling — everything we had IS IN SHAMBLES!

Biology

• - All you wanted was access to my genes.

Physics

• Both parties accept that what goes up must come down.

Journalists

• “And it was in this house that Jack (19) and Jill (18) at 11 PM last night announced their respective break-ups after only two weeks.”

Women’s Studies

• - HE did it!

Business

• Both of them decide that they spend too much money together, and that it’s more rational to be single.

History

• They agree that the cause of the break-up is a matter of the past.

Geography

• Both agree that moving far, far away is the best solution.

Anatomy

• - I’ve never actually liked your body.

Literature

• The ending proceeds in the form of well-written letters, complete with a lead-in, a main part, and conclusions, but neither of them manage to communicate anything useful to the other party.

Teachers

• They both agree that it was a learning experience.

Architecture

• The fundament wasn’t any good anyways.

Philosophy

• If two people break up in a student house, and nobody can confirm the break-up, are they then single?

Chemistry

• There was simply no chemistry.

Music

• Both write a long piece to express their sorrow. At least one go into country music.

Law

• Mutual suits are filed for illegal neglect of a contractual agreement regarding dates.

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

Inappropriately stolen from The Angry Drunk Bureaucrat, apparently a fellow paper-pusher:

Rule #O: “The Rules of Bureaucracy are mutable, non-canonical, non-ordinal, and contradictory, except in the cases where they are not.”
Rule #1: “Document everything you do; if you didn’t write it down, it didn’t happen.”
Rule #2 [The Sixty Minutes Rule]: “Never do anything that would cause Ed Bradley, Mike Wallace, Morley Safer, Steve Croft, Leslie Stahl, or even Andy Rooney to pursue you down a hallway with a camera crew.”
Rule #3: “Nothing Simple is Ever Easy”
Rule #4: “It’s about the money; follow the money.”
Rule #5: “Never ascribe to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.
Rule #6: “Politics is the enemy of good government.”
Rule #7: “The biggest detriment to public service is the public.”
Rule #8: “The second biggest detriment to public service is the service.”
Rule #9: “There’s a reason; there’s ALWAYS a reason.”
Rule #10: “The Law is a harsh mistress: The rigorous and exacting application of which can benefit of society when used correctly to advance good policy and block bad, and be the bane of society when used incorrectly to advance bad policy and block good.”
Rule #11: “Public service often involves waking up in the morning, opening up the newspaper, and discovering that someone, somewhere out there thinks that you’re a dickhead.”
Rule #12: “No one really knows what you do.”
Rule #13 [Luke's Rule]: “No one ever acts like the bastard they really are.”
Rule #14: “Bureaucracy endures.”
Rule #15: “The longer you work in bureaucracy, the more Catch-22 resembles non-fiction.”
Rule #16: “Politicians are not smarter than you.”
Rule #18: “Money is not created equal.”
Rule #19: “Mediocrity is normalcy.”
Rule #17: “Within any bureaucratic structure, resources (e.g. people, money, knowledge, etc.) are not distributed uniformly.”
Rule #20: “Don’t assume a fiduciary liability without a committed resource allocation.”
Rule #21: “If you do your job and obey the law, they can’t reasonably fire you.”
Rule #22: “The Budget will always be wrong.”
Rule #23: “Always sign in blue.”
Rule #24: “A Bureaucrat must be able to explain and justify his/her actions to laymen without resorting to the phrase ‘because the Rules say so.’”
Rule #25: “Never voluntarily relinquish control of an original document.”
Rule #26: “Sometimes you just have to say ‘Screw the rules’”
Rule #27: “Change sucks.”
Rule #28: “Sometimes the answer is ‘No.’”
Rule #29: “It is very easy to make difficult decisions when no one has a clue what’s going on.”
Rule #30: “If you hang around long enough, eventually you will become an expert in something.”
Rule #31: “Data, technology, and automatic processes can never completely supplant human interaction.”
Rule #32: “Cover thine own ass.”
Rule #33: “It’s not real until it has its own acronym.”
Rule #34: Coming Soon…

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

Well, somebody certainly pulled off a very nice picture at least…

I Am A: Lawful Good Human Cleric (3rd Level)


Ability Scores:

Strength-10

Dexterity-10

Constitution-14

Intelligence-15

Wisdom-13

Charisma-15


Alignment:
Lawful Good A lawful good character acts as a good person is expected or required to act. He combines a commitment to oppose evil with the discipline to fight relentlessly. He tells the truth, keeps his word, helps those in need, and speaks out against injustice. A lawful good character hates to see the guilty go unpunished. Lawful good is the best alignment you can be because it combines honor and compassion. However, lawful good can be a dangerous alignment because it restricts freedom and criminalizes self-interest.


Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.


Class:
Clerics act as intermediaries between the earthly and the divine (or infernal) worlds. A good cleric helps those in need, while an evil cleric seeks to spread his patron's vision of evil across the world. All clerics can heal wounds and bring people back from the brink of death, and powerful clerics can even raise the dead. Likewise, all clerics have authority over undead creatures, and they can turn away or even destroy these creatures. Clerics are trained in the use of simple weapons, and can use all forms of armor and shields without penalty, since armor does not interfere with the casting of divine spells. In addition to his normal complement of spells, every cleric chooses to focus on two of his deity's domains. These domains grants the cleric special powers, and give him access to spells that he might otherwise never learn. A cleric's Wisdom score should be high, since this determines the maximum spell level that he can cast.


Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus (e-mail)



Detailed Results:

Alignment:
Lawful Good ----- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (29)
Neutral Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (22)
Chaotic Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXX (14)
Lawful Neutral -- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (27)
True Neutral ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (20)
Chaotic Neutral - XXXXXXXXXXXX (12)
Lawful Evil ----- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (17)
Neutral Evil ---- XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Chaotic Evil ---- XX (2)

Law & Chaos:
Law ----- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (16)
Neutral - XXXXXXXXX (9)
Chaos --- X (1)

Good & Evil:
Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXX (13)
Neutral - XXXXXXXXXXX (11)
Evil ---- X (1)

Race:
Human ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXX (13)
Dwarf ---- XXXXXX (6)
Elf ------ XXXXXXXXXXXX (12)
Gnome ---- XXXXXX (6)
Halfling - XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Half-Elf - XXXXXXXXX (9)
Half-Orc - XXXXXX (6)

Class:
Barbarian - (-29)
Bard ------ (-25)
Cleric ---- XXXXXXXX (8)
Druid ----- (-19)
Fighter --- (0)
Monk ------ XX (2)
Paladin --- (-2)
Ranger ---- XX (2)
Rogue ----- (-4)
Sorcerer -- XX (2)
Wizard ---- XX (2)

Current Mood: bored

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

So, basically most of last week was this year’s vacation for me. So, here’s krikkert’s post-vacation writeup.

Day 1: Monday, August 4th.
This day didn’t start off too well, what with having to get up at 6AM to show up for work. I can’t afford snacking off from too many paid hours (what with not having paid leave…), so it was decided that I’d work a half-day this day. Thus, I worked from 6:30 to 11 o’clock. Cue my boss being late to relieve me. Grr. With the boss finally there, it was a race against the clock to reach pick-up so I could drop by the flat for a last overview¹. Then, in a succession so rapid the Romans didn’t have anything on us, I picked up my lovely wife, she inspected the flat (A+!), we picked up her new driver’s licence from the DMV (Bastards wouldn’t simply let me pick it up at the post office, nooo, she had to show up in person…), and shot off for the first stop on Christer And Kat’s Grand Vacation of 2008! Namely … My parents. Cue dread.

According to our schedule, we were supposed to stay for half an hour to an hour-ish at my parents’. This was severely broken by several magnitudes. We arrived at around three-ish, and thought we’d get a move on by four. Instead, I don’t think we managed to leave before around seven. The blame was duly apportioned in my direction, and we shot off, again, for the Lost City of the Mustaches². We managed about oh, an hour before an SMS ticked in on Kat’s phone, wondering whether or not we could drop by Lillehammer. Indeed we could, so a detour was made. Once there, we had to be telephonically guided to our destination, before conversation and hugging could ensue. After said hugging had ensued, off we went again.

A bit past midnight, including one change of drivers (and one seriously distrustful Christer clawing his way into the passenger seat by way of buttcheeks), we arrived. We were supposed to be camping, but the hour was late, so we were kindly allowed the use of the Devil Monster Doom Sofa of Ikea. After firing up the gifts for the natives³, and playing a wee bit of Dark Age of Camelot (quite the fun game, once you understand the principles). Then we bedded down for sleep.

Day 2: Tuesday, August 5th.
Day 2 started off with serious oversleeping. Alarm clock duly ignored, of course. Pretty much thrown in the shower, and then we set out to see the sights. We invaded the town, went shopping, and calibrated my clothes-dar. Apparently I need to get certified to pick out clothes Kat could wear. Got a couple of shirts and a nice pair of trousers for me, and a few things for her. Afterwards, we popped around to the Nidaros Cathedral for Olavsfestdagene (Feast Days in Honour of St. Olav). We even got to climb one of the towers (on the picture on the linked site, it is the tall tower in the middle of the building on the left). 40 metres above ground, 171 steps. Christer, of course, is deathly afraid of heights. It worked pretty well, all in all, once my brain wrapped itself around the idea that it wasn’t going to randomly crash into the ground head-first. There were also visits to Outland (fantasy bookshop) to garner presents so as to curry favour with the natives, and buying dinner on our way home. There were tacos.

Once we returned, I started setting up the tent. Was pretty fun, doing something physical for a change⁴, until the hosts informed me that it was going to rain. Cue the question of when they were going to tell me, and the answer of When he’s done pumping up the air mattress. They’re evil. EVIL! Good thing the tent’s waterproof.

That’s it for Days 1 and 2. Days 3 and 4 with my wife — bless her — and I, and Days 5 to 7 with just me will be forthcoming shortly.

1. Kat threatened that if I didn’t have it sparkly-clean, she’d go on vacation without me [↩]
2. Lost here being wishful thinking from my side [↩]
3. Frozen pizza (Grandiosa) and booze (Martini) [↩]
4. Carrying the wife’s shopping does not count as physical. [↩]

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

Still waiting for my letter of admission to the UiO Faculty of Law. They’re apparently still working on my case!

Today’s been pretty fulfilling. I’ve done a full-home vacuuming and gone over with soap and water (I am very glad I have a small home). I’ve cleaned. And now I’m preparing a few notes before me and my wife — bless her — are off to our weekly roleplaying game. We’re currently playing the What Follows in Shadow adventure in the Wheel of Time RPG setting, and I angle to send the characters headlong into the Prophecies of the Dragon series of adventure later. Mwahahaha… They’re in for a RIDE!

I’m also pondering how to most easily deal with my forgetfulness. Will I remember to look up appointments in an appointment book? Gah, if only my memory hadn’t started to fail on me.

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

There are people who claim that religion is nothing but bad, and seem to have as a core tenet that all religious people in general, and Catholics in specific, should be permanent apologists for past sins, as well that those of a moderate bent should be permanent apologists for the extremists who claim to belong to the same faith.

Therefore, I see fit to demand of everyone who’s ever known anyone who’s used anything created in a factory — that would be most of humanity — that they apologise profusely and immediately for creating the climate issues that they themselves (for the most part) now claim are going to be the end of us.

Personal responsibility. It’s just that. Personal. Now, one counter-argument to this can be the so-called ’sins of the father’ doctrine (ex. in Exodus 20:5; “You shall not worship them or serve them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, on the third and the fourth generations of those who hate Me,”), which I’ve seen used as an argument in favour of the apologist view. Said doctrine, however, says nothing about Earthen relationships, as, going back to the Law of Moses, it is stated in that big book that sons shall not suffer for their fathers’ sins (Deuteronomy 24:16). Said doctrine is on the relationship between man and God, and basically means this: If a man turns away from God, and raises his children accordingly, the children will suffer for it, for they don’t know of God. But on Earth, each answers for himself alone.

This post produced by an annoying tendency to dislike people who believe they’re entitled to an apology from me personally for something my forefathers have done. I will answer for my crimes against mankind, but I refuse to answer for yours!

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

Well, six months to be more exact. So, what’s gone on in Christer’s life for the last few months? Well, you’ll have to wonder a bit longer while I actually go and do a write-up of that.

Quote of today:

"Sex is easy. Good sex is a little more difficult. Love is hard to find in today's world. The hardest thing to find is someone who is sexually compatible with you, loves you, wants to be with you, and gives good head."

Current Mood: chipper

not a peasant was stirring, 'cept a car dirty and gritty
Suddenly there was a strange noise in the lot
There was a child about to be begot
I couldn't see any excitement from the spot where I lay
So I went to slip down the birth canal just as fast as I may...

This very minute, twenty years ago, I came crashing and screaming into the world. I'm told I was a great surprise, not being expected before the first of January. My birth was relatively uneventful, Mother and I were lonely in the birth ward.

Last Year
I had just arrived from Canada, and was pulling an in my opinion great prank on Grandmama -- planning to arrive unannounced at Christmas dinner. Mother sank that battleplan on this day by forcing me to call and ask her to put an extra plate on the table. Later, it was commented that this was the second year I've been her Christmas present.

Five Years Ago in Nibelheim...
I became responsible for my crimes... No real change. There was cake, fun, and a merry time. I was glad to be half-way to the finish line with my teenages.

Ten Years Ago
Memories from this era in my life are pretty scarce, but according to my Grandmama, I signed my name in her scrapbook as "Høyesterettsjustitiarius Christer Jenson" (the title translates as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court). I've been doomed to an interest in law ever since. 1997 was also the year when my Great-Uncle died, the first death in the family I can recall (my grandfather died in 1989, that's the only other one).

Fifteen Years Ago
Believe it or not, memories from THIS era are even more scarce. I don't have many memories from before school-age, and they're all pretty jumbled together as it is. I remember sitting upon my Great-Uncle's lap and reading the newspaper out loud. I remember sneaking up to him and having slices of bread with butter and sugar on top when I didn't feel like whatever my parents and brethren were having. He taught me much, and I hope I've done him right.

Current Mood: contemplative

As many of you may have seen the film "The Golden Compass", I would like to correct a few misconceptions presented about Norway in it:

• Polar bears do not wander the streets randomly (they have reservations)


• Neither do we ride armed polar bears to war (banned by treaty, Sweden didn't like 'em)


• We're not run by a Magisterium (we're run by the Directorate of Taxes)

Current Mood: content

In the newspapers and on various message boards, I keep reading entries written by people who believe Christmas is all about the presents. For many, it is. But in my family, you no longer get presents after your 18th birthday. I'm okay with this, because I believe Christmas should be the holiday in which we dote upon our children. For me, it's not the receiving of presents that matters, nor the giving. It's the perverse joy I find in the knowledge that I know what they're getting and they can't stand it, and the mind games we play where they attempt to coerce me into letting slip a hint. It's the part of finding new hiding places for the presents. And it's the incredible feeling I get when I see the look on their faces as they circle the Christmas tree wondering where all the gifts they didn't know about came from.
My presents are rarely expensive (but I spend more on Christmas presents than an average person my age, statistics claim), but they fit.

Before the presents, however, there is the Christmas Eve dinner (traditionally besieged at my maternal grandmother's). Oceans of gravy, enough pork rib to feed a flock of wolves, Christmas sausages and meat cakes to satisfy the Army were it to drop by. It's the kind of Christmas dinner that causes your tummy to sag to the floor and your arteries to groan just by smelling it. Sauerkraut, potatoes, carrots, peas, and flatbread.

So much for my attempts to lose weight this Autumn.

Current Mood: creative

Unceremoniously stolen from shortandsweetnz. :-)

Current Mood: apathetic

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

I had nearly forgotten that I had even applied. But as it appears, they not only received my application, they even processed it. And sent me a reply. Saying that I had been accepted. For the last week or so, I’ve been tormented by whether to attend a public school, or the private school so gracious to extend me an offer.

I’ve signed and dated the offer, and returned it. This fall, I will be attending BI — or the BI Norwegian School of Management. It’ll be a Bachelor’s program in Economics and Business Law, and I’ll hopefully be extending that into a full-blown law degree. Hopefully.

Also, I’d like to request a few good wishes for my friend Shamini, who’s in a tight spot with regards to the National Higher Education Coordination Board due to some misinformation on their part.

Work’s been hectic this month. I don’t think I’ve had a day off since early April, around Easter. My paycheque also came in the mail — roughly equivalent to two months’ budget when living on government study grants. Money tastes so much sweeter when it’s earned. Sadly, it also leaves so much faster.

23:20, signing
~Christer

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

So I’ve recently come into possession of a rather interesting piece of knowledge. Earned the hard way, of course. Namely that my feet don’t quite get along with the special soles. Crying yourself to sleep over physical pain isn’t really a thing to desire. And as such, a quote comes to mind: “I don’t have a pain management problem. I have a pain problem.”

Fame and glory to the person able to come up with who said that.

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

Man hält sich von jeder Straße fern,
denn krikkert hat sein Führerschein.

krikkert has his driver’s licence.

Originally published at Obiter Dicta. You can comment here or there.

Friday at 0945 hours, I will once again submit myself to the rigorous testing of the State Road Department to see if I know enough to be let out on the roads.

Have at thee!
Reply, and I promise to tell you:
1) Tell you why I friended you.
2) Associate you with a song/film.
3) Tell a random fact about you.
4) Tell a first memory about you.
5) Associate you with a character/pairing.
6) Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
7) Tell you my favourite user pic of yours.

... And I'll also have your babies and cook. Wait, scratch that last sentence.

Current Mood: complacent