Mr.Silver has brought your fix: Random Banter #206

[Kneenibble]

Well, then you would be doing it wrong. Very wrong, in fact, since you arc the blade in front of you, and the handle makes it practically impossible for it to come any closer. It'd be easier to cut yourself when swinging a sword.

As for how it actually looks and feels, well, you neither move your arms nor legs when operating a scythe (not counting the steps you have to take between each swing). Instead, you hold the scythe handle diagonally and swing it by turning your torso. To make sure you cut the grass properly, you'll want the scythe blade to almost point in the same direction as you swing it, only differing enough to cut a decimetre or two forward through the grass. Then you just swing, step forward, swing, step forward, and so on.

Very interesting. Thank you. Is it decently efficient, then? I speculate these things: firstly, that there are not many other options when the grass is long; and secondly, that a razor-sharp slice is much healthier for the grass than the dull tearing of a lawnmower's blades.

Ooh invite me too, I want to be non-Swedish/Swedish gardner helper person!

Indeed, hellos Bilbeneken! (I'm sure you can see what I did ). How does it go for you this day? Or whichever day you next post here.

Since Sweden is colonizing the world surreptitiously via furniture and socks, it is our right to enjoin the centre from our periphery. Postcolonial studies have taught us this. Onwards to the capital, Helium Halloon!

I am well this day: for this afternoon I shall take lunch with my gentleman friend, and this evening I shall drink rum and play cards with the blackguards of my family. The recent cold snap is turning back to spring, and I shall soon be out of town taking medicinal quantities of wine. All manner of things are well. I trust, in turn, that your yard work and renovations of late have been satisfying? Let me guess, you didn't ask what was planted in the garden this year. *runs into the bathroom crying and locks the door*

I know I've complained about this class a lot before, but... this is just insane.

1) "Even if you believe in god, you must believe in the book [in heaven]..." If you don't believe in heaven, why would you believe in a book that's supposed to reside there?
2) What on earth does said book in heaven have to do with AI pathing?! I mean I get what the perfect tic-tac-toe game has to do with AI and I get what that has to do with game engines, but a BOOK that you have to believe in even if you don't?!

Please knock me out until my clothes are out of style

A wizard is never out of style. Nor is he in style. He is precisely as fashionable as he means to be.

But I feel as if some deep cipher is at work in this individual's strange utterances. By God he means the meta-game surrounding tic-tac-toe, and the possibility of perfection within an ultimately flawed matrix. With the book he means the way to signify, in material terms, the meaning of a thing which is not material -- transcending the particulars of form. In this way, programming tic-tac-toe AI becomes a wax-on/wax-off spiritual exercise. You are being taught by a sublime genius.

ION:
Speaking of scything, I'll actually be going to our ancestral farm today, staying for the weekend. There won't be any grass to scythe, it's still too early for that, but there will be cousins, and that's always fun!

Can you please tell me, once you have been there, how your white strawberry plants might be doing? Of course it be too early for berries, but... y'know... just let them know that I asked.

http://tinypic.com/r/szzqy0/8

I have ducklings now.

Beefsquatch (black and grey chick) and the black duckling feed each other and make out. Clearly they are a couple.

Are they as fluffy to touch as they look? ;___;
May I brushy-brushy them with a toothbrush?

Our lease ends in early June, and my options are to either: stay in Finland for the summer and return early enough to find a flat before my placement starts in August, or stay in Glasgow and visit Finland when convenient. I'd rather have the latter. Glasgow's a horrible place to find a flatmate from. TOO MUCH SCARY STUFF.

Not to mention the difficulty of finding a "flat" *utters this word awkwardly* for only a few months. Have you met no enclaves of budgies in the city, who squat in clock towers or attics or around the warm vents outside of bakeries? I could talk to my people, and they would surely take you under their wing for a time. They will bring you tea and oranges and toast, and preen your hair so that it be shiny and smooth as a tail feather.