Sam ☂

I watched this epic Asian sci-fi movie that went on for ages (perhaps 3 hours +). It was half anime/stylised, half real. It's a bit frustrating because I can't actually remember that much about the storyline, but hopefully the bits I can remember will help someone else point me in the right direction.

The whole film is set in the future. I think there was a guy who was grown, or cloned or died and brought back to life (perhaps both)... He is some kind of soldier in a power suit thing (maybe he could fly?). He saves this girl in a village. I remember the end there is a massive war and a final showdown between the hero and the villain in this giant robot walking station thing...

It was a very stylised sci-fi movie, I can't think that there are many like it. If you know of any directors who it could potentially be let me know. I'm sorry, I have no idea whether it is Japanese/Chinese/Korean.

This is so vague, but if anyone can think of what this is, or if you have any other questions let me know.

I'm completely new to programming, in fact at the moment I know next to nothing about it but I'm hoping to work toward creating something specific over the next few years. The key element of what I would like to create is a webpage embedded programme that will search the internet for news articles and match them visually to a chart (based on dates).

For the internet searching segment of this, which programming languages would be good to use? And with the above in mind, do you have any recommendations for beginners books/material to start working toward?

I'm thinking about getting started with some stock trading but I have no experience/knowledge of it at all. I've heard that there are virtual stock trading websites that allow you to build up a portfolio with practice money, does anyone here have a site they would like to recommend?

Any other advice or material for a beginner would also be appreciated :)

Thanks,

Sam

"Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And recks not his own rede."

From Hamlet, Ophelia talking to her brother.

In short, my understanding of the quote is that he is taking the primrose path meaning the easy or nice route.. But the second part I'm unsure on.

What does 'and recks not his own rede mean?'

Any additional info or insights would be great. Thanks all.

Hello

I'm 19 years old, finally getting round to learning to drive and I'm now thinking about what first car to get.. I know most go with really small cars like a Clio or Saxo but I had my heart set on a 1989 Ford XR3i, which I thought would be cheap to insure due to it's age and relative lack of power. The quote I got was for £4500 annually. 3rd party only and with only myself as policy holder and main driver. Would there be a way to reduce this insurance? I already opted in for that tracking box thing.

Alternatively, if it is unrealistic to be able to get reasonable insurance on an Xr3i then do you have any suggestions of similar cars? Small engines are good but I hate the look of small hatchbacks.. Is there a saloon-ish type of car that has a small engine and would be suitable for a 1st time driver?

Thanks all for your help, if you need any more info I'll just add it in.

Cheers,

Sam

I suppose what I'd really like to ask here is for some direction in my life. To give you some context I'll explain a little bit where I am in my life.

I'm 19 years old, I have a fairly decent job for my age and I'm on my gap year before Uni (although I plan on extending this gap year). So my life seems like it's alright from the exterior, and it really is.. There's nothing REALLY wrong with it.. I'm retaking my A-Levels at the moment but I hope to go travelling as well. I'm the kind of person who analyses life a lot: like where I am, what I am doing and the reasons why I am feeling the way I am. Like for example: even now when I type this I think that some people here will make judgements on what I have wrote so far. I'm just tired of the bullshit all of the time - people judging and having to over-think everything. Maybe it's just me but I just feel like everything is so fake & superficial, and I hate it. How to be stylish, having facebook and acting in a certain way... I don't mean to sound melodramatic - I'm not depressed, I just feel really weary of where I am in life at the moment..

I think there are a lot of people like me from reading through the answers on Yahoo and I hope that you can help me a little bit.. I guess I'm just feeling like I'm drifting a bit. I want to do something new.. Life here in Devon is making me feel really bored. I don't have a lot of mates (I used to but I fell out with them over a girl a long time ago and I became a bit of a recluse in peoples' eyes - no facebook etc.) So I guess when I go out I don't really get much acknowledgement and that bothers me. It's a bit of a viscous circle.

I don't really know what I want to hear from people here.. I guess I just want something more from life than just working towards the next stage in my life. I want to live now rather than work towards the 'perfect' job or work towards academics. I'm happy to work for money to do things.. I just don't feel like I'm ready to work towards the next stage in my life and I just wan't to live now.

I have a few issues like my parent's aren't getting along, and I have only a few mates now... As a young person I feel like I'm demeaned a bit in an older worker's environment. These are all things I can deal with though.. but I guess I'm looking for a way out of my situation now and experience something completely new and away from western culture altogether. Perhaps it's a bit drastic but I just feel like there should be a lot more to life..

I don't feel like I've really explained myself very well at the moment so I might expand a bit in additional info. Thank you for your advice or comments and I hope you can kind of understand what I'm saying :)

This is a response inspired by another poem and his closing comments (link below.) Any thoughts/responses/critiques?

http://uk.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=201...

Light’s journey from stars born

To places not yet of form,

Grounds are little more than swirling

Arrays of minerals and molten rock,

Blue seas not yet a distant thought.

The greatest irony perhaps?

That we look upon the stars

With vision toward symbolic hope,

And strive to be as bright.

Yet they are long gone,

A distant memory vaguely

Resembling an ethereal form.

Merely a phantom,

Cut chord descendent

From stars long gone.

Amongst the Cosmos,

Mere moments.

But for speck figures

Scuttling across surfaces

Of soft blue worlds,

Beams find their way gently

Toward frosty hearts,

And lighten nights otherwise absent.

A presence so powerful,

Mere memories illuminate

Paths forward.

Yes, I will aspire to the stars,

So that long after dust settles

Upon layers of lost form,

I will be known.

If only as a phantom beacon,

A memory known,

And greater,

Than I will ever be.

Just a bit of oddness for you. Hate it or like it, feel free to comment :)

Fire brine boil, nonsensical

Words forming like steam.

Rises.

Higher.

Belching bubbling water,

Sucking dye from tea,

A salty wronging.

Fresh not in a

Flesh-filled yacht.

A tangy madness poured

Into 16 cuppas,

Aye, undone by underdone

Flame.

Now where to drift? Till

Remnants turn to dust.

Hello, this is my second draft of this poem. I'm pretty happy with the result thus-far, perhaps just a couple of minor alterations will be made at some point. Please feel free to comment, critique or respond with a poem of your own. Looking forward to hearing your responses :)

"Passing"

A flight of doves into gentle breeze,

The imagery as profound to me

As the words themselves; pure hope and peace,

A holy aurora complimented by

Strands of clean silver,

Moonlight.

An unusual sight surely? An omen no doubt.

A single white feather drifts down, tumbling

To rest softly on tarmac,

Stark contrast between

Dark-fell construct and nature's beauty,

A concept not quite tangible,

Unknown to me

But I sense its simplicity,

Pragmatism verse raw perfection,

Is there anything really to be said about such an image?

Poignant maybe,

But perhaps inconsequential,

Just a remnant of a passing,

Chance and probability, inevitable occurrence,

Just an artificial metaphor forced to suit,

A world observed by the acute.

This is a work-in-progress but I hope you enjoy it or have some comments. I'm particularly unhappy with the last 2 lines (a little abrupt in my mind) but the rest I'm fairly happy with in it's feel. This is just a first draft and I'll be looking to revise it tomorrow. C/C is especially appreciated.. Feel free respond with a poem of your own or comment on anything at all :)

"Passed Remnants"

A flight of doves into gentle wind,

Pristine and irradiated in the silvery light of the moon,

An unusual sight surely? An omen no doubt,

Sole, a white feather drifts down, tumbling to rest softly on tarmac,

Stark contrast between dark-fell construct and nature's beauty,

A concept not quite tangible, unknown to me but I sense it's simplicity,

Pragmatism verse raw perfection,

Is there anything really to be said about such an image?

Poignant maybe,

But perhaps inconsequential,

Just a remnant of the passing of inevitable occurrence,

An artificial metaphor forced to suit,

My world well traversed under these boots.

Just a quick short poem I've written. What do you think? Any insightful thoughts to be shared? Let me know, all is good :)

I envy you Serenity,

Endlessly searching, meditating in silence

To find thoughts of clarity,

Yes, it is all clear,

I do project myself unto others,

Causing my own pain,

I do find the world green,

And see through lenses of the same hue.

But Serenity?

You are enlightened, peaceful,

In all aspects of the word,

Clarity is washed-out.

A shadow of the great,

A second-nature,

But you are bliss, and not the ignorant kind,

Silent and knowing,

Acting in inaction, but able

None-the-less,

I do envy you,

Irony at its best.

Just a short one for you. Enjoy :)

Autonomous yappers!

Droaning and moaning and endlessly going on..!

Combined, an event slight or large,

Can trigger a chain reaction, the start?

Like a fist shoved down a tightened chest,

Blood rushes to cheeks, eyes water and jaw clenches,

A few deep breaths to still that screaming silence in his head,

It’s all fine.. – no?

Blood gushed by a fierce heart beat,

To his head; smash, smash, smash,

Seeing a pulsating white world with balls for hands,

He ejects a typhoon, hot air out of flaring nostrils,

And pounds the life out of the quad-legged shiny face.

This poem was inspired by another question here on YA. It's a bit rough round the edges at the moment but i'm fairly happy with it. Comment, critique, respond with a poem of your own. All is good :)

Sat to write but no words will come eloquently,

Pen on paper; the rawest form,

No pretences,

No games, no lavish words, thoughts or lies,

The truth? An irrelevancy,

Long lost beyond your vision,

An objective truth unlikely.

It becomes too clear,

Live in a false world – blinding light,

A prison of ignorance and denial,

Or brace the icy winds of truth,

Freedom,

But too cold to wander,

A real choice, a true conundrum,

But all routes head parallel,

The same end, the same destination.

A prison,

Truth and freedom?

Ni, a compound of choice.

Merely walls,

But no lock and bar,

The door is always there

If you choose to walk through.

But for now just drift,

In between ignorant bliss

And woeful denial,

Ultimately aware,

But floating on the murky depths

Of averse neutrality.

How sad, I seem to have hit the wall.. I really want to write something but it's just not happening today, ah well - these things happen I suppose.

O how I yearn to write,

Of rivers, lakes and light,

Even a glimmer of a line on time

Would be greater than just fine!

But no. Writers block has descended,

My poetry and art rear-ended.

Hahaha, awful ;) My question to all you poets out there is: What do you do when you have writers block? Or are there a few of you out there that never suffer from it? Share any thoughts or experiences :)

Hello,

I haven't really decided on a title for this yet, perhaps you can suggest one? Comment/Critique, all is appreciated :)

He had seen the seas of gray,

Macabre waves and hopeful façades,

Wandered through temples to light decadent,

And found drunken days turned longing nights.

But today he feels.

A slight increase in tempo,

His heart beating in songs rhythm,

He can only look up, remembering,

What it is to be;

To belong, to chat and to chuckle

Of harmless irrelevancies,

An end in itself – no mere distraction.

He notes,

The sky is indeed blue,

The air is crisp and his breath does frost,

A complex intricacy amongst all things living,

Fragile and vulnerable, yet resilient;

Life is good, a true distinction otherwise.

Yet he will never forget those days..

Spent drifting in that muted world, breezeless ,

With its stuffy humid air – stiflingly cold

And withering in complexion..

The sun is warm now,

But his vision will always be marred

By a hint of grey; an ode to relapse,

A world best forgotten and left behind.

Hello all this is a response to another question that I asked, I obviously couldn't fit it into additional details so here it is.

Part 1 here: http://uk.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=201...

@Misesean - An interesting essay and a very compelling one. I understand what he is saying about the arrangement of mutual benefit between the producer and the worker and how the two are, ultimately, alike as consumers in capitalism. However he fails to take into account that there is a blatant distinction between them.

The capitalist pays the worker a wage that he feels is apt enough for the laborer to continue working whilst himself being able to profit upon his work (as a result of his organisation and innovation) as well continuing growth in his business. Now, this in itself is no issue at all - in fact, on the surface it is obviously an arrangement of mutual benefit despite the antagonistic nature of their relationship. The laborer has unions, civil rights and the power of numbers behind him whilst the capitalist has the capital needed to turn labor into productive labor. They are counterparts within capitalism - neither can exist without the other.

As the writer rightly says - the average worker will take short term return (a wage) over a longer term (and larger) worth of product. In terms of investment of time it is clearly not beneficial for the worker to produce and sell his own goods when he can receive a wage to spend instead. In fact, as the writer also says, the whole system would collapse if there weren't instant wages floating round to support consumerism. This is why under a Marxist system you would most likely have décroissance (a negative growth.)

Despite all these issues he raises the relationship between the laborer and the capitalist is still one of exploitation. The capitalist's added worth to the production line will always be considerably larger than that of any worker beneath him since his actions alone are driving the forces below him.. He is the driving force behind production in the greatest sense, his job is necessary for innovation (which Marxist-society doesn't factor in very well at all.) The fundamental distinction this writer fails to make isn't in the relationship between people.. but rather the nature of his payment. The laborer receives a wage, which I'll describe as a recompense sum (the smallest amount of money you can pay to a worker with the least amount of unhappiness.) The capitalist, on the other hand, is paid from a growth in capital.. If business is growing he will receive the most he can without detracting from future-growth prospects. Therefore he is, in reality, receiving a share of economic growth - he is uniquely the only individual within capitalism that actually receives his worth of the production line.

The problem is not with how the capitalist receives his wage but rather with the workers. The exploitation of workers within capitalism stops, in my eyes, when the workers - like the capitalist - receive a sum derived from his share of the "work-load" compared to the success/failure of a business followed by wider economic growth. Unfortunately within capitalism though the Capitalist is the biggest barrier to the worker being able to achieve this..

In the 1950s capitalism was pretty true to it's nature from my understanding (I'm not an expert by any means) in the fact that it was primarily made up of small industries with larger state monopolies (US Steel.) Now Capitalism has moved in the opposite direction in that it has become oligopolistic, perhaps even monopolistic. Therefore not only is the worker "tricked" (not literally, rather socialised) into accepting a wage instead of a share of his value, he is also prevented from being able to create business himself due to the ability of these large corporation to out-cost small industry. This is where the exploitation is in modern Capitalism and it's as blatant as a brick to the face.

This was all a very simplified explanation as of course a capitalist can't just take the wages he pleases.. But the "capitalist" I refer to is all the accumulative owners of means of production - share-holders, bankers, investors and private business etc..

Hello all,

Just a brief question for you: if I mention the word "Marxism" what is the first thought that comes into your head?

I ask that question because whenever I read peoples criticism of Marxism they are quite often based on a misunderstanding of Karl Marx's concept of economic equality. Karl Marx DID say that all people should be regarded equal in a sociopolitical way - in other words, all people should be regarded as equal in the eyes of society. He thought society should be a collaborative system in which it operated in such a way as to benefit all people based on shared work. But his ideas did not involve the concept of everybody being "paid the same" irrespective of the job they do.

In regards to economic-equality (wages in particular) he actually did not believe that everybody should be paid the same - i.e. a doctor and a cleaner receiving equal wages. Instead he saw the first step toward his 'collaborative system' (communism) as first giving all workers their worth of the production line according to his labor theory of value - in short this was a basic theory that the worth of a commodity was due to the added labor time and "effort" (concept of effort is complicated). In this instance a doctor would be paid more for doing harder/more intense labor which benefited society more.

However to talk about "pay" when talking about Karl Marx is not a simple concept either. He hoped that eventually he could do away with wage-labor as a whole and work in a system that works much like miniature communes in an (obviously) larger way. The way currency operates is hugely complex in that each nation's currency is based on a whole range of external factors - labor is simply the way in which this credit is then distributed to the people. Marxist wages would involve labor being the determining factor of worth, regardless of any other external factors. Marx ultimately had anarchist views since he hoped that communism and mankind would one day evolve to the point where the necessity to have a centralized government would simply float away over time. Communism was ultimately to be based on miniaturization, collaboration and a strong socially-engineered view that collaboration with one another rather than individual gain is good.

Marx's works were very interesting, hugely controversial and massively theoretical. The way his ideals were attempted to be put into reality were merely experiments and failed in so many fundamental ways that I find it hard to regard it as Marxism at all. I'm not here to say that Marxism works and ultimately I don't think it does (I don't think it's possible to achieve social-engineering to that level of efficiency) but I find it frustrating that these demonized cold-war ideas about what Marxism is are still running rampant today. I do, however, believe that Marx's ideas were fantastic and I think several of his concepts could be effectively implemented in society - just not all of them but that's just my view.

Let the flames begin :)

Hello all,

This is the latest poem I'm working on, it's something a bit longer than I usually write.. I was inspired to write something about a journey at sea by one of Gio's poems, I really enjoyed it and I kind of wanted to do my own take on the theme. This is it, it's a very rough draft and it needs some fleshing out still but here you go. Enjoy :)

Lost amidst a sea so distinctly grey,

Near deathly in it’s demeanour, he lusts,

For a place faraway from these briny deeps -

Sailing forth toward a sun that ne’er shines,

Begrudgingly hopeful yet gleefully pessimistic,

He drinks those lonely days and nights

Into a drunken stupor; a small relief

In this godforsaken place.

Lonely, deserted, mad..

He rehearses those words over and over,

As if to persuade..

But time passes slowly and he begins to relish in

The company of that wind,

Softly arousing his name,

Seducing,

Whispering secrets of other enraptured souls

Dreaming, beguiled,

Of lascivious scenes.

“O how you torment me!” He screams at the heavens,

Casting that last bottle of rum out to sea, consumed,

To float,

Endlessly.

But that mistress, Spite, planting those lewd thoughts

In his ears longing for laughter, turning his gaze

Onto bustling ports and boozy endeavours,

Would never stop..

Yet he presses on, scorning those breezy whispers

With every breath he takes,

Slighting that breathy temptress,

Ever-eager to chase those short moments

So elusive from his grasp! It must be soon..

............................................................................. it must be soon..

............................................................................. it must be soon...

Images of golden beaches flood his mind,

Of coconut paradises and leafy garments,

Yet they never appear on the horizon,

Days turn to nights and back to days,

“Soon..” He mumbles through parched lips

Absent of rum, spread eagle on the deck.

Lifeless, barely more than the loose

Clothes draped over his tepid body.

He despairs – There are no bustling ports

Nor boozy endeavours to be had,

There are no golden beaches or coconut paradises,

There is no dancing under moonlit skies..

Just him and that wind..

Malign, vindictive and wicked..

Forever whispering, forever murmuring,

Until those long days are over.

Sam

P.S. I'll post the finished version of the poem once it's done. I'd love to hear your feedback so say whatever you want.

(The formatting of yahoo answers isn't allowing me to to put the stanza 4 "it must be soon" repetition right.. It looks like this in the actual poem without the dots)

It must be soon..

...............................It must be soon

Just a short poem that I wrote when I was having a really bad day at the office. It's not the best - not going to win an award for innovation any time soon but I think it accurately conveys my feelings and loss of patience. Enjoy :)

Jaws clench, nerves unravel,

Abruptly.

With Patience resigning from her all-too-patient post,

Rage schisms from that flimsy cage,

Looking for blood, out on the prowl

For another luckless fool like he.

What a ******* day.

Sam

P.S. ******* is fúckíng as you may have well guessed ;)

Hello,

I was on my way to work a few days ago and I saw this single golden autumn leaf go past the car and I wanted to write about it.. It's not finished yet, I'm still working on it but at the moment I've hit a bit of a brick wall. Personally I think it needs work/revision in a few places but I'm quite happy with it. What do you think about it so far? Critique/Advice/Compliments would all be very appreciated :)

Thanks,

Sam

Autumnal leaf; unique in this desolate winter,

Taken by the gentle wind,

Floating in a fragile limbo with the sky, doting upon the sun

With it’s breezy smile and flighty temperament.

Then for a single moment,

I gaze out unto it, by chance.

Usually ignored

By my rushed commute of endless days.

[u] The Journey Of The Late Autumnal Leaf [/u]

Clutching onto me

With its weakening grip,

These branches must set me free

To travel my autumnal trip.

Waiting: dreaming of golden suns and silver moons,

I know it will be now, if not soon.

Breeze turns to gust, and gust to gale,

I find my release, thrust out this well-versed vale,

Away, away!

I cheer – no regret, no fear,

Gone are those familiar faces:

Those browns, those greens –

Those familiar places.

I now traverse lands unknown

In the sun’s gentle smile,

Alone , I realise - I’m happy to travel awhile.

Swept above the canopy of patient trees,

Higher yet higher,

Above that sapphire river,

And beyond, nothing in life can be thriftier,

Than the simple journey of an autumn soul

In this ever-winter.