In a vague attempt at proving this website actually has content, here's a quality article, chosen at random from our immense archives. Enjoy!|
Random Jelly Bean Generator
Harry Potter pwns. Apparently.
|the colonpipes a comic of random randomness - now with added roughness
Tuesday, February 7th, 2006 Friday, February 3rd, 2006
|You've probably noticed that this website doesn't get updated much, anymore. This is because I'm really struggling to care about it. There are a number of reasons for this.|
1. The removal of the comment system due to spam abuse means I don't get feedback on anything I write unless it's Pulitzer-winning prose, which a) I'm unlikely to write, let's face it, and b) I have no interest in writing due to the vicious cycle developing between the lack of comments and lack of posting of articles.
2. There haven't been any new, interesting drinks lately.
3. Various other things.
Thursday, December 22nd, 2005 Monday, December 5th, 2005
|Here's a brief recap, for those Rip-Van-Winkles who slept through the past twelve months. In no particular order.|
- Pope John Paul II died. Ultimately, no one cared. Most people were more curious about a) where the Popemobile ended up, and b) why his successor looks more like Emperor Palpatine than a potential figurehead for the most frightening organisation on the face of the Earth.
- colonpipe.com gained an IRC channel, which flourished for about a month. Then, as everyone lost interest in it, and the various shell robots employed (at actual expense, mind you) to keep the channel occupied failed to do so, it died. The channel still "exists" at #colonpipe on EFnet, and you'll probably still find Jim and Knives haunting it.
- I went to Tasmania, in a fit of inexcusable stupidity. It was cold, and I learnt a few things that I really already knew. I did, however, get a chance to put my car on a boat, which was nice.
- I met up with Yahtzee of fullyramblomatic.com fame, and caught a screening of Doom, which sucked arse.
- I saw a UFO, which was awesome.
- I bought an iriver mp3 player, which is pretty sweet, although it looks like Darth Vader's Hello Kitty iPod.
- A huge gust of wind and a large amount of water obliterated a large chunk of the southern end of the USA. People died. Everyone abused the President for being a moron and not sending aid quicker. No one was really surprised, deep down.
All together, it's been a pretty fucking ordinary year.
Thursday, November 17th, 2005
|Over the recent weekend, I had the opportunity to meet with Yahtzee from fullyramblomatic.com, and to watch the epic masterpiece of celluloid theater that masquerades as Doom.|
Movies based on video games are rarely decent. Lets explore.
Super Mario Brothers.
The general concensus on the Super Mario Brothers movie is that it stands alone as a passable fantasy film, with unnecessary allusions to the Super Mario Brothers video games thrown in for no reason whatsoever. With the possible exception of "He's got a Bob-omb!", none of the video game references have even the slightest bearing on the plot.
I liked Mortal Kombat. For a few reasons. Bridgette Wilson in short shorts is one of them. Of all the video-game inspired movies to date, this one's probably the most accurate to the game, which is both a benefit and a downfall. Luckily, the backstory behind the Mortal Kombat games had a bit of beef to it, so there was actually something to build on, script-wise.
Also, this movie features virtually every major character from the game, has a reasonable sense of humour, and doesn't appear too cheesy.
Also, CHRISTOPHER LAMBERT.
Oh, fuck no.
Resident Evil / Resident Evil: Apocalypse.
Again, the redeeming quality of this movie is that you get to see Milla Jovovich's genitalia. Leaving the game connection out, it's a pretty ordinary zombie episode.
House Of The Dead.
Oh, Christ. It has clips from the game in it. Possibly the worst movie ever made. Also, it's worth nothing that Uwe Boll is also in the process of cinematically destroying Alone In The Dark and Postal, too. Fuck him. Fuck him in his gaping anus.
The plot of Doom, the video game, basically consisted of "there're demons from hell on a space station, so marines go and kill them". Sadly, the plot of Doom, the movie, is the same. I'm vaguely tempted to write a scene-by-scene description of it, but seeing as ABSOLUTELY NO PLOT DEVELOPS, there's no point to doing so. However, here're a few notes:
- The Bio-Forge Gun.
The BFG. It's introduced into the film with all the subtlety of a housebrick. That'd be okay, perhaps, if it wasn't for The Rock's emotionless delivery of the line, "Big...fucking...gun". I want to stab the screenwriter.
- Dexter Fletcher.
In another attempt at crow-barring a well-known reference into the flick, Dexter (from Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels, among other things) is Pinky. Pinky lost his bottom half in a bizarre transportation accident, and now has his anus miraculously welded to a Segway Scooter. WIthout giving away any massive plot spoilers, he mutates and becomes the pinky demon. Whee.
- Gun Cam.
The last 15 minutes of the film consist of purely random gun-cam violence. After our dopey marine hero is injected with antivenom..or venom..or whatever the hell it was, he's overcome by a violent rage that can only be assuaged by strapping the film camera to his gun and shooting everything in sight. It's so House Of The Dead it's unbearable.
Friday, November 4th, 2005 Thursday, November 3rd, 2005
|IRC has died. Links have been removed. For the moment, Bresnahan remains in cyber-limbo as I'm still paying for the shell account and can't be arsed to cancel it. And I wonder where all my money goes. |
I have another new drink to review, but I can't be arsed to do that, either.
Monday, October 17th, 2005
|Sir Dan of Natch has acquired, through gruesome corporate violence and the strategic use of a pumpkin, a radio station. It lives here and goes by the title of NatchCast. It also plugs directly into your iPod via steam and magic, and can dice carrots and celery.|
Some of the above was a lie.
Sunday, October 9th, 2005 Friday, October 7th, 2005
|I've removed the comments feature from this 'blog thing. Sorry. The spam was driving me nuts, and there's virtually nothing I can do about it with this 'blog software.|
The links to comments have all been changed to "Comment on this in the forum!", so you're all welcome to discuss crap there, instead. Not that much discussion ever really happened here.
In the highly unlikely event that there're readers of this website that lurk around, please feel free to hop over to Rafters and join up. It's all good.
There's also the e-mail feature, for what it's worth.
Yep. Hooray for technology, hooray for unsolicited advertising.
EDIT: For the record, all the old comments still exist, they're just trapped inside a database somewhere in cyberspace until I can be arsed to filter anything useful out of them.
Sunday, October 2nd, 2005 Tuesday, September 27th, 2005 Saturday, September 17th, 2005
|So what's the point of the spam posts that keep appearing on here, anyway? There're two on here, one from "Best" and one from "Gaby". Granted, they're not the online poker crap that's festooning almost every other post on here, but hey. They make no sense. The URL given in the post details is not only incorrectly entered (so you can't click on it), but it doesn't even exist anyway.|
Friday, September 16th, 2005
|So, yes. Continuing on. Towards a place called "Tasmazia".|
This is the road towards Cradle Mountain, which was coated with snow when we left in the morning. It was interesting to drive on. This type of snow behaves a bit like sand. Here's the pinnacle of the road itself, which consists of a sign.
Tasmazia, however, consists of mazes. Here's the main map of the mazes. You don't get to take this with you.
Inside the mazes, they tease you by occasionally providing a viewing tower so you can overlook the maze, which provides essentially no help whatsoever as the hedges are designed by muppets and are thoroughly uneven and impossible to tell apart from each other from the tower's aspect.
The restaurant attached to Tasmazia has a pretty exotic menu, including such delicasies as "Scones on Steroids" and "The Wild Boar Loose In The Feed Shed".
Here I am amusing myself by balancing on a post in the "World's Only Monument To Posts And Poles", located at the goal of one of the smaller mazes. If one were to place a monument to posts and poles somewhere else, would Tasmazia be forced to alter its claim?
One side of Tasmazia consists of "Cubby Town", a bunch of kiddies cubby houses in various states of humour and disrepair. Here I deliver a sermon from the altar of a tiny church. Then I get appropriately dealt with by the Inquisition for sacrelige.
This is meant to be a joke. You laugh at it.
This is the Confusion Maze and the Village Of Lower Crackpot. The village has its own post code. You can send mail from its post office.
The World's Smallest World Heritage Area.
Heading back towards the north-west corner, here's Cradle Mountain, although the majority of the cradle itself is obscured by the ubiquitous fog that appeared as I reached for my camera.
Kangaroos in Tasmania are apparently prone to attempting to life your car bonnet at high speeds.
In the process of leaving Tasmania, here's the road to Devonport.
The Spirit Of Tasmania II goes to Melbourne, the Spirit Of Tasmania III goes to Sydney. The parking at Devonport is a bit poorly organised, although it may have just been the way it was arranged the day I boarded. The access to the car park was blocked off, meaning I had to "park" in a one-way road and wait with my car for an hour before boarding.
Here's a view of the loading ramp from one of the bars on board the Spirit II. For the hell of it, here's the elevator shaft with "you can't tell if someone's vomited on this" floor patterning.
Coming into Melbourne the next morning, Rialto Towers vaguely visible to the left. Here's a sign from above a garbage can on board the Spirit, in both Greek and English, as the boat is a former Greek ferry. (Not a former Scandinavian ferry as I may have posted elsewhere.)
This is a Smart Car.
That is all.
Monday, September 12th, 2005
|So I spent a couple of weeks in Tasmania. I hadn't been there before. I'd heard it was cold. I was just looking for an excuse to put my car on a boat.|
Drove to Melbourne. Got lost in Melbourne's yuppie suburbs. Arrived at the Spirit Of Tasmania with half a day to spare. Spent oodles in parking fees for said half day. Got hungry, spent 45 minutes walking around Beaconvista or Beaconville or Beaconwank or whatever the fuck it's called, trying to find something to eat that didn't have a French name or a price tag that'd be expensive if it were in Yen. Decided not to buy a meat pie for $8.
Boarded boat. The process for this consists mostly of waiting. You wait here. You drive about ten feet ahead. You wait there. You drive another ten feet. Four hundred times starting the car later, and you drive up a huge fuck off ramp into the nose of the boat and pull up in nice little rows. It's all quite neat, really.
The cabins on the boat are pleasant, if tiny. Lots of mirrors. Bathroom's quite roomy, and has a shower that's fun to use on rough seas. Got woken up twice on the trip over, once with my head being crammed into the wall by a peaking wave, the other mid-peak, leaving me feeling weightless for the following flop.
Arrived in Tasmania. Drove to the north-west corner. Tasmanians can't drive, and need to be formally introduced to white painted lines, which they seem to think are guidelines to drive down, not to divide the road.
It snowed for the first time in two decades. We made snowmen. Lots of snowmen. Here I am catching some snow.
Visited a place called Stanley, and it's odd outcropping of rock, called "The Nut". There's usually a chairlift in operation to haul your lazy arse to the top of The Nut, but as luck would have it, it doesn't service in winter. So we scaled The Nut instead. The tracks ascend at about a 45-degree angle. Mm, calf-burny.
The top of the nut is a giant disc of rock with trees and stuff on it. You walk around a 2km track, circumnavigate it, and walk down the other side.
A few days later, visited Launceston and Hobart. Launceston's a great place if you're not a vehicle's wing mirror. Clearly the streets were designed for about half a car, and have been marked for three lanes. Three people walking abreast would bump shoulders down these streets.
Drove to Hobart via Perth (Tasmania) and a small town called Campbell Town (not to be confused with Campbelltown, Sydney). Campbell Town has a kind of "Walk Of Infame" on its main street, where convicts are assigned bricks with their name and brief life story on.
Continued to Hobart. Looked at the city from the lookout. Scouted cool looking houses. I think these are the tallest buildings in Hobart. It's not a tall city.
The power of Christ compels you! It's possibly not the steps from The Exorcist.
But wait, there's more!
In fact, you can wait a while. Because I haven't uploaded the photos. Ciao.