*prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby draque » Mon Oct 05, 2009 1:54 pm

Hey, it's been about two weeks since Jenny's last post, I'm just curious where she's gotten off to and whether she's recovered from the PAX bug. Anyone have any word? Hope you're on the mend, Jennifer.
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Plasman » Tue Oct 06, 2009 6:47 am

Seconded. Has it really been two weeks? eep.

I hope you and your family are keeping well... :|
If this last post seems ridiculous, please disregard it. Thank you. ;)
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Idiot Glee » Tue Oct 06, 2009 11:00 am

We're all hoping you all are well, please check in. We want to know how you are!
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And, "One thing there's no getting by—
I've been a wicked girl," said I;
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"

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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Mitsukara » Wed Oct 07, 2009 7:02 pm

Indeed! I hope all is well with you and your family. Take care.
^v^
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Anna » Thu Oct 08, 2009 5:33 am

The silence worries me
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby strange_person » Thu Oct 08, 2009 7:32 am

Checked the local obits, and bragging-places of certain traditional enemies who shall not be named. If something genuinely horrible had happened, they would be getting the word out. They aren't, which is arguably a good sign.
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Idiot Glee » Thu Oct 08, 2009 1:22 pm

http://profile.mygamercard.net/Giniko

She appears to be logging on periodically.
Hello!

And, "One thing there's no getting by—
I've been a wicked girl," said I;
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"

-Millay
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Tychomonger » Thu Oct 08, 2009 3:35 pm

The noble side of internet stalking!
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Aealacreatrananda wrote:When I envision a far far future.... I don't fuck around.

People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff.
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Idiot Glee » Thu Oct 08, 2009 4:08 pm

Tychomonger wrote:The noble side of internet stalking!


To be honest, I just remembered seeing it before, then thought "well maybe she'd checked that".
Hello!

And, "One thing there's no getting by—
I've been a wicked girl," said I;
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"

-Millay
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Wizard CaT » Thu Oct 08, 2009 4:27 pm

Hey stalking is great. She is normally idle on Steam too!
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Alfador » Thu Oct 08, 2009 6:32 pm

I wouldn't worry too much. She's a Survivor. *knowledgeable giggle*
Arf! *wagwagwag*
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Anna » Thu Oct 08, 2009 11:51 pm

Alfador wrote:I wouldn't worry too much. She's a Survivor. *knowledgeable giggle*

Hm, but what's with Eldenath?
She'd get the full clash of the flu.
As I wrote before: This silence worries me.
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Idiot Glee » Fri Oct 09, 2009 2:41 am

Anna wrote:
Alfador wrote:I wouldn't worry too much. She's a Survivor. *knowledgeable giggle*

Hm, but what's with Eldenath?
She'd get the full clash of the flu.
As I wrote before: This silence worries me.


Yeah I'm worried about her family too, I think we're all worried. Some sort of update would go a long way.
Hello!

And, "One thing there's no getting by—
I've been a wicked girl," said I;
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"

-Millay
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Ashes » Fri Oct 09, 2009 2:37 pm

I have her phone number, but am too shy to call and ask how they're doing.
:oops:
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Plasman » Sat Oct 10, 2009 8:48 am

Maybe... wait a little longer...before you call...? :(

All this drama could could just turn out to be a non-event, if it turns out to be something simple, like their Internet connection is busted or something. :oops:

Dammit, this is silly, I'm worrying about people I've never even met, yet.

I still hope they're all OK. :|
If this last post seems ridiculous, please disregard it. Thank you. ;)
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Earendil » Sat Oct 10, 2009 10:05 am

I have her phone number, but am too shy to call and ask how they're doing.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bystander_effect

The research suggests that, if there's a potential emergency and a large group of people are trying to figure out what to do, you should single out one specific person and ask them to help.

So: Please do call Jennie, it might be important. (I tried emailing her and I didn't get a reply).
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Idiot Glee » Sat Oct 10, 2009 11:39 am

Plasman wrote:Dammit, this is silly, I'm worrying about people I've never even met, yet.


More accurately, you're worrying people you know through one of the greatest inventions of socialization (internet), but haven't spent time with in a physical sense.

Not a damn thing is silly about it.
Hello!

And, "One thing there's no getting by—
I've been a wicked girl," said I;
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"

-Millay
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Anna » Sat Oct 10, 2009 1:13 pm

Sometimes there is need for a friend.

But as Plasman said, we never even met.
So, can we be friends?
This is always a problem with a forum and us forumites.
But here on unicorn-jelly we know how we act and react, we know, a little bit, how we are.
We are a community which is nearly free of trolls.
(Besides of these idiots on far away sites which are do lurking here time by time)
And I myself don't have a good reputation, if I'm thinking to the last years.
(To much e-mailings to Jennifer, which made her afraid)

There is something happened, and Jennifer doesn't want to share it with us.

But even if she would tell it to us, We couldn't help her or her family.
We have to accept it.
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Earendil » Sat Oct 10, 2009 1:24 pm

But even if she would tell it to us, We couldn't help her or her family. We have to accept it.


There is nothing we must accept if it is hurtful to us, and the very bad things least of all. Whatever comes our way, no matter what ill has befallen us, we shall go on to the end, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight in the air, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender. To quote Eliezer Yudkowsky's excellent essay on this:

The day is May 8th, six months and one week after the final annihilation of Yehuda Nattan Yudkowsky. Today I am going to visit my little brother's grave, with my family, to watch the unveiling of his Matzevah, the stone that is set in the ground to mark his grave. This is a warm day in Chicago, springtime, with trees blossoming, and a bright blue cloudless sky. Nature does not mark the passing of our dead.

We drive for an hour and arrive at the cemetery. The last time I was here, for my brother's funeral, I choked up when I saw a sign with an arrow, to direct cars, bearing the hand-lettered name "Yudkowsky". This time there is no sign, for Yehuda or anyone. There is no funeral in this graveyard today. There is only one cemetery employee with a map, to direct the visitors to graves. We drive to an unremarkable section of the cemetery. The last time I was here, there was a great crowd to mark this place, and a tent for the mourners, and rows of chairs. This time there is only grass, and metal plates set into grass. I could not have found this place from memory. I look around for landmarks, trying to remember the location.

I remember (I will never forget) when I came to this cemetery for my brother's funeral. I remember getting out of the car and walking toward a van. I looked inside the van, and saw my brother's polished wooden coffin. The box seemed so small. I didn't see how my brother could fit in there. "What are you doing here, Yehuda?" I said to the coffin. "You're not supposed to be here." My grandfather, my Zady, came toward me then, and held me.

I remember (I will never forget) the phone call I got in Atlanta. My cellphone's screen identified the calling number my parents' house. I said "Hello?" and my aunt Reena said "Eli -" and I knew that something was wrong, hearing aunt Reena's voice on my home phone line. I remember having time to wonder what had happened, and even who had died, before she said "Your brother Yehuda is dead, you need to come home right away."

That was the previous time. I don't feel today what I felt then. There's a script built into the human mind. We grieve, and then stop grieving, and go on with our lives, until the day we get another phone call. Probably one of my grandparents will be next.

I walk along the gravel path that leads to where my family is gathering, looking down at the metal plates set down by the side of the path. Rosenthal... Bernard... some plates are only names and dates. Others bear inscriptions that read "Loving husband, father, and grandfather", or "Loving wife and sister". As I walk along the path I see a plate saying only, Herschel, my love, and that is when my tears start. I can imagine the woman who wrote that inscription. I can imagine what Herschel meant to her. I can imagine her life without him.

How dare the world do this to us? How dare people let it pass unchallenged?

I stand by the foot of my little brother's grave, as my relatives read Tehillim from their prayer books. The first time I came to this cemetery, I cried from sadness; now I cry from anger. I look around and there are no tears on my mother's face, father's face, uncle's and grandparents' faces. My mother puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, but there is no wetness on her face. Such a strange thing, that I'm the only one crying. Tears of sadness we all had shed, but tears of anger are mine alone. My relatives are not permitted to feel what I feel. They attribute this darkness to God. Religion does not forbid my relatives to experience sadness and pain, sorrow and grief, at the hands of their deified abuser; it only forbids them to fight back.

I stand there, and instead of reciting Tehillim I look at the outline on the grass of my little brother's grave. Beneath this thin rectangle in the dirt lies my brother's coffin, and within that coffin lie his bones, and perhaps decaying flesh if any remains. There is nothing here or anywhere of my little brother's self. His brain's information is destroyed. Yehuda wasn't signed up for cryonics and his body wasn't identified until three days later; but freezing could have been, should have been standard procedure for anonymous patients. The hospital that should have removed Yehuda's head when his heart stopped beating, and preserved him in liquid nitrogen to await rescue, instead laid him out on a slab. Why is the human species still doing this? Why do we still bury our dead? We have all the information we need in order to know better. Through the ages humanity has suffered, though the ages we have lost our dead forever, and then one day someone invented an alternative, and no one cared. The cryonicists challenge Death and no one remarks on it. The first freezing should have been front-page news in every newspaper of every country; would have been front-page news for any sane intelligent species. Someday afterward humankind will look back and realize what we could have done, should have done, if only we had done. Then there will be a great wailing and gnashing of teeth, too late, all too late. People heard about Ted Williams on the news and laughed for ten seconds, and in those ten seconds they lost their husbands, their wives, their mothers, their children, their brothers. It's not fair, that they should lose so much in so little time, without anyone telling them the decision is important.

I did talk to my family about cryonics. They gave me a weird look, as expected, and chose to commit suicide, as expected.

It is a Jewish custom not to walk upon the graves of the dead. I am standing in a path between two lines of graves. Some of my relatives, my uncle David and his children, are standing in the space next to Yehuda's grave, where another grave will someday go. I think that if a filled grave is ominous, so too is land earmarked for a grave in the cemetery; like standing above a hungry mouth, waiting to be filled. When will we stop feeding our cemetaries? When will we stop pretending that this is fair? When will the human species stop running, and at last turn to stand at bay, to face full on the Enemy and start fighting back? Last Friday night my grandmother spoke to us about an exhibit she had seen on Chiune Sugihara, sometimes called the Japanese Schindler, though Sugihara saved five to ten times as many lives as Oskar Schindler. Chiune Sugihara was the Japanese consul assigned to Lithuania. Against the explicit orders of his superiors, Sugihara issued more than 2,139 transit visas to refugees from the approaching German armies; each visa could grant passage rights to an entire family. Yad Vashem in Israel estimates that Sugihara saved between 6,000 and 12,000 lives. "If there had been 2,000 consuls like Chiune Sugihara," says the homepage of the Sugihara Project, "a million Jewish children could have been saved from the ovens of Auschwitz." Why weren't there 2,000 consuls like Sugihara? That too was one of the questions asked after the end of World War II, when the full horror of Nazi Germany was known and understood and acknowledged by all. We remember the few resisters, and we are proud; I am glad to be a member of the species that produced Sugihara, even as I am ashamed to be a member of the species that produced Hitler. But why were there so few resisters? And why did so many people remain silent? That was the most perplexing question of all, in the years after World War II: why did so many good and decent people remain silent?

For his shining crime, Sugihara was fired from the Japanese Foreign Ministry after the war ended. Sugihara lived the next two decades in poverty, until he was found by one of the people he had helped save, and brought to Israel to be honored. Human beings resisted the Nazis at the risk of their lives, and at the cost of their lives. To resist the greatest Enemy costs less, and yet the resisters are fewer. It is harder for humans to see a great evil when it carries no gun and shouts no slogans. But I think the resisters will also be remembered, someday, if any survive these days.

My relatives, good and decent people, finish reciting their prayers of silence. My mother and father uncover the grave-plaque; it shows two lions (lions are associated with the name Yehuda) and a crown, and an inscription which translates as "The crown of a good name." Two of my uncles give two brief speeches, of which I remember only these words: "How does one make peace with the loss of a son, a nephew, a grandchild?"

You do not make peace with darkness! You do not make peace with Nazi Germany! You do not make peace with Death!

It is customary to place small stones on the grave-plaque, to show that someone was there. Each night the groundskeepers sweep away the stones; it is a transient symbol. One by one my relatives comes forward, and lay their stones in silence. I wait until all the rest have done this, and most people have departed and the rest are talking to one another. Then I draw my finger across the grass, tearing some of it, gathering dirt beneath my fingernails (I can still see a tinge of dirt now, under my nail as I write this); and then I hammer my stone into the dirt, hoping it will stay there permanently. I do this in silence, without comment, and no one asks why. Perhaps that is well enough. I don't think my relatives would understand if I told them that I was drawing a line in the graveyard.

In the name of Yehuda who is dead but not forgotten.

Love,
Eliezer.
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Re: *prods creatrix with creatrix-prodding-stick*

Postby Mitsukara » Sat Oct 10, 2009 10:48 pm

So, um... *back of head scratch* after talking with Ashes and some other friends from the forums about it, we decided to give Jennifer a call (for some reason I wound up being the one to take point to do so >.>). I got the answering machine, which I'm pretty sure was hers (remembering her voice from the Lupiko and Thilia tea conversation thing and other WAV files floating around the sites), but no answer.

What I said was, roughly:
"Hello, uh, if this is Jennifer Diane Reitz, um, uh, this is Mitsukara from the forums, and, uh, someone, uh, Raharu Aharu had your phone number from ages back, and, uh, we talked about it, and we thought it might be a good idea to give you a call since no one's heard from you in about a month and we're all worried about you. I'm very very sorry if it was inappropriate to cal at all, I was just worried, and, uh, I hope you're doing well, and, uh, um, uh, hope to hear from you soon, take care"

And I felt kinda super nervous and was worried about privacy and soforth, but, hopefully that was okay (everyone encouraged me on it a bit).

But yeah, no word back from that, so... :oops: I hope everything's alright.
Hello! ^^
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