Tag Archives: daemon


2) You all have transformed my daemon from whippet to bunny to raccoon to fox to whippet again. Wikipedia says “Whippets are generally quiet and gentle dogs, content to spend much of the day sleeping.” ahahaa
Also, sight hounds often sleep with four feet in the air, a comfortable if ungainly position. This is called “cockroaching” and looks like this:

Compare to that picture Carolyn took of me curled up and dead to the world in an uncomfortable corner behind Quinn’s couch. I have logged into friendster and orkut because I could have sworn it was posted as a profile picture at some point, but I cannot find it. Alas.

3) I have had many anxiety dreams lately. Just now, I dreamed that I was in a ship, a massive, ornate beauty with ballrooms and dark brown wood columns and beautiful carpets crisscrossed with vine patterns. I herded dozens of quiet, frightened but determined people of all ages into a dark corner that I just knew to be the very stern of the ship, and finally into a tiny closetlike room that was the place that was the most front and most bottom of the ship, with the purpose of tipping the ship over, because we needed to raise the back of the ship in the air as a distress signal. Because we were getting attacked. Also, I had given instructions to the secret elite (which had been selected beforehand) that they were not to tell anyone, but to my dismay, people started showing up with their children. And servants (because I’ve been reading jonathan strange & mr norrell). And sure enough, more and more people started showing up. And then my worst fears cam true: a scrawny little girl with brown hair in two pleats started hollering down the corridors of the ship that the [something] were coming and that we were under attack. Naturally, people started trampling each other to get to the little closetlike room in the front of the ship, because it was now the only safe place (why? I don’t know). So we had to take some of our leadership elite and hold the crowds back, while they shouted at us to let them run free. We tried to tell them that it was for their own good, that they’d kill each other if we turned them loose, and as we held hands to form a human barrier against the surging, angry crowd, we said to each other that it was a heavy burden to bear, to be on this elite team. Then I had a flashback in my dream, explaining how when we first boarded the ship, there was a dinner for this elite team. There were all kinds of people from various walks of life and various ages, all dressed up for a formal dinner around a large large table with lots of candles and white table linen in a beautiful mahogany dining room with chandeliers and subtle touches of green from beautiful plants, and a graceful lady sheathed in a glittering purple dress stood up and touched her knife to her wineglass and delivered a speech about our duties to the rest of the people.

Then I went back to the present, or the future, or whatever, and people were inside the closet at the front of the ship, and it was filling with water, Titanic-esque. I was among the people inside. Then I wasn’t in my body anymore, but in someone else’s body, above water and outside of the room, who found a chest of drawers and had the bright idea of throwing the drawers into the doorway and trapping a pocket of air into it so that the people inside the water would be able to breathe. (The ship was practically vertical by this point.) Then I was myself again, grabbing for a drawer underwater, and sucking in a lungful of air, and passing it to my friends around me. Then I was being grabbed out of the doorway and I lay panting on the wall next to the door, grateful for air, and then I turned to get my friends out. I felt desperate and I was so afraid that some of them would die, but we got them all out miraculously, and the trapping-air-in-drawers idea worked, and everyone was safe.

I wondered about this dream: would I have inserted a flashback into my dream if I did not know of their existence from visual media? Like, did cavemen dream of a glistening fish, and then flash back to when they and their sister caught it earlier? Or was that kind of dream impossible before the advent of the movie, to show that discontinuous time was OK in a story? No, clearly not; I wondered this only because of what some history professor said about the first movie (birth of a nation)–that the creators feared the public would not understand the concept of a “cut.”

4) I am bad at choosing fruits. I made my roommate eat a nectarine I brought home from the farmer’s market, one of three; mine was sweet and delicious while hers was disgusting. Then I brought three white peaches to Ryan’s to grill: two were sweet and delicious while one was defective, the stem missing, the pit already split in half with strange things growing inside of it. Gah.

5) Anyone have a cat I can clicker-train? http://youtube.com/watch?v=Vja83KLQXZs

6) Anyone want to clicker-train me? It will require a lot of time and patience. I imagine the hand of God reaching down out of the sky to pat me on the head and say “good human!” and emit a click every time I am on time for something or get out of bed, and drop in my lap a cuddly kitten that doesn’t scratch or a puppy with inquisitive, trusting eyes, and some hard candy, some maple and brown sugar oatmeal, a walnut shrimp, maybe some plate armor with spellcrit and healing. Awww cuddly furry animals.

7) Muselive is coordinating a plan for all the fans of the world to unite to get Citizen Erased into the top 20 digital downloads for next week. In the UK, I think. I don’t really know about how the charts work or if they’ve set up one for iTunes america too. Citizen Erased’s a great choice though =) If it works, apparently radio stations will be forced to play the song, and they’ve changed the digital downloads chart recently to make it so even “non-physical single” songs are eligible. Here’s the original post, and … and even the myspace to promote getting CE to number 1. CE is a good choice. It is orgasmic.

8) Had a good 4th. There were mojitos and vegetarian hot dogs and a pretty cat and sun and shade and an umbrella, and then a park and ultimate and running around out of breath, and squint, and then dinner at amber cafe, a place with interesting fusion items such as a pizza on naan (which looked good, none of us got any) and a crepe (which ryan got, it wasn’t very good) and my potato things were good. We missed the fireworks, but that’s ok. And then while running (walking briskly?) up the up escalator in Millbrae station, the lip of my right teva caught on a step (I’d been tripping on them all day) and I fell down and have a pretty bad scrape on my left elbow, a scrape and a bruise on my right shin, and a puncture wound in my right big toe. Three bandaids upon my person! More than I’ve had in a long time! And then I was all sore from playing ultimate. I am not very active. I should go outside and run around more. But it makes my neck hurt. Wah, wah wah.

9) My computer is broken. The video card drivers don’t work; maybe the video card is borked.


From http://www.powells.com/authors/pullman.html (which I got to from http://darkmaterials.com, which I got to from that article that rwclark posted in newsdog)

Dave (the interviewer): I’ve been looking for my daemon.
Pullman: Well, it’s no good, you looking for it. You find out what your daemon is by asking other people what they think it is.
Dave: They’ll know?
Pullman: Ask a bunch of your friends, once you’ve explained what a daemon is in the first place.
Dave: Do people tell you what yours is?
Pullman: I’m reluctant to ask in case it’s a slug or something.

Your daemon is your soul. If you’re a straight female, your daemon is male, and so on, and they are always in the shape of some animal. Any animal, land or sea or air, even insect. Before puberty your daemon can change into whatever animal it feels like, but by the time you’re like 12 it’ll settle into one shape and never change after that. Daemons must always stay near you, except for certain extreme circumstances/people (like witches, whose daemons are always birds by the way, but that’s all I’ll say about that). Um. It’s kind of embarrasing to touch somebody else’s daemon, but daemons can play with each other, and furthermore they can communicate kind of when you come across someone whose language you don’t speak. Yeah, daemons talk to you and to other people and to other daemons and stuff, and they are your best and constant and most dear companion. Bears don’t have them. ANYWAY you should really just read the books.

So, my friends. What form is my daemon?