February 20th, 2010

agent

I don't have to eat my hat

Update on the comatose Belgian man 'communicating' via FC.

"The sceptics said it was impossible – and it was."

The truth of the matter gives me no joy, but neither are things that might give me joy necessarily true.

[still curious about the rest of Laureys' results about brain function. Dr. L's earlier support for FC didn't do much for my opinion of his perspicacity, but the two claims are separate.]
agent

3126 aka Captain Jarrett Anton Willoughby (deceased)

I had the distinct pleasure of participating in richardabecker's Steampunk LARP this pm. The man himself intimated that this was to be his last large-scale event of a LARP-ish sort. If this sad state of affairs does indeed obtain, then in the midst of my mourning, I can only honor his decision and congratulate him for completing his career on such a high note.
The location, a Victorian manor designated Historic Monument 157 in Montecito Heights, was perfect for the occasion, and the players and host all threw themselves into a 19th century that never was with commendable ardor.
Relating what happened during such an event is a task fraught with dangers. For those who attended, my account is needless; for those who did not, it will likely seem tedious. Consequently, I shall do no more than allude to the mechanical men, willful submarines, dimensional travellers, the boreal dirigible of Baron von Claus, explorers, scientists, tinkerers, spoonbenders, scholars, lightning guns, spiritual dynamos, communicative jade hands, and other miscellanea of the evening. But I do take some small pride in assisting in the salvation of the universe from an extradimensional threat, despite many challenges, not least of which was the suspicion with which I was regarded on account of my being a dead body reanimated by alien technology (and later damaged by the Admiralty).