This is downright silly.

OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse, Feb 8 2004.
What historical figure would I have dinner with?

I believe I've actually had dinner (or... other things) with every historical figure I had any interest in having... mmm... dinner with. When you're five billion years old and all of space and time is your playground, this is not the sort of question that needs to remain hypothetical.

Besides, what qualifies as history? I don't live in the same linear time most of you beings do, so for me who qualifies as a historical figure depends on who I'm talking to and when they exist.

That being said, thus far, I have not successfully talked either Jean-Luc or Kathy into having dinner with me. Not that I eat, unless I feel like it, but humans do so love to mix socializing with their silly nutritional requirements, and I'd be delighted to have an opportunity to simply hang out, without having to have an excuse like "the Continuum is at war" or "I have tests to conduct here" or something like that. Unfortunately, no matter *how* boring whatever they're doing is, they always act as if it's more important than spending time with moi, so I really will have to come up with a decent excuse one of these days.

Tombstones?

OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse from Feb. 28, 2004.

Tombstones.

Could there possibly be a more irrelevant question to an immortal entity?

Oh, I have encountered things that could destroy me, but firstly, I have no intention of ever encountering them again, and secondly, should I be unlucky enough to have a fatal run-in with one of them, it's awfully unlikely that there'd be anything left behind to memorialize, or anyone who'd bother to do it. The Q don't need pithy little epitaphs; we remember our dead well enough, on the few occasions where one of our number has died.

During the war, every time a Q was killed a star went supernova. I suppose that's more of a tombstone than any of us actually wanted.

In any case, I have given no thought whatsoever to what I'd want on a hypothetical tombstone, for the simple reason that I never intend to need one.

Laughter as a raison d'etre.

OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse Mar. 12, 2004.

What makes me laugh?

Many things, which is good, because if there was nothing amusing in the universe I'd probably destroy myself out of boredom. When you're an omnipotent immortal, finding things to amuse yourself is as vital as food and drink are for mortal creatures. You may not be able to die-- not easily, anyway--- but you can certainly wish you were dead.

So, what amuses me?

Well, I amuse myself, of course. Nothing like being self-sufficient. I devote a significant portion of my vast intellect to the pursuit of the perfect witty retort. However, this becomes rather pointless when no one else has the skill level to play, so I would have to say that I am at least slightly dependent on finding conversational partners that don't bore me.

Humans are a very funny species at times. I used to hang around at the Algonquin Round Table, trading quips with the likes of Dorothy Parker, George Burns and Groucho Marx. Ah, that was fun. Reminded me of the early days of the Q Continuum, before the others all got so stultifyingly dull. And Jean-Luc's provided me considerable entertainment over the years-- both when he's trying to be funny, in which case he makes quite a witty bantering partner, and when he's trying to be earnest and serious, in which case he's such a pompous, arrogsnt windbag it's hilarious to listen to him.

I also think it's really funny when you force some pathetic mortals to recognize their own foolishness-- and they STILL DON'T GET IT. Okay, listen to this one. There was once this species where, due to a natural mutation, about half the population had blue hair and half had purple. No other genetic difference. But they used to come up with *all* sorts of ludicrous distinctions, like blue-heads are happy-go-lucky drunkards with no head for practicalities, or purple-heads are overly violent, or whatever. And they made people live with these stupid stereotypes. So one day I turned all their hair green. Did that make them realize the foolishness of their prejudices? Oh, no, no, no. They had the idea that they could do personality tests on people to find their original hair color, and then passed laws saying they had to dye back to it! Oh, if I weren't immortal I'd have died laughing at that one.

Five senses and a desert island?

OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse from 3/17/2004.

Why am I becoming overwhelmingly convinced that these questions weren't written with my species in mind?

( If I had only five senses... this question wouldn't be nearly so stupid. )

Ah, April Fools' Day.

OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse from Apr. 1, 2004, with slight revisions for continuity with other posts.

Normally I find paying attention to assorted mortal calendars tedious to the point of absurdity, but I make exceptions for a small number of mortal holidays, and the humans' April Fools' Day is one of them. I've been a trickster god to enough species that I admit to getting all warm and fuzzy inside when I find a holiday that celebrates the trickster, and while modern humans have managed to bowdlerize their holiday until it's about nothing but puerile practical jokes, this day was originally about reversing the accepted order of the world, about chaos and misrule and *fun*. They used to turn their notions of everything inside out on this day, to play for a day at being someone they could never be in everyday life, to make kings into beggars and beggars into kings.

Of course, ever since we won the war the joke has been on me; it turns out that reversing the natural order of things and making the trickster, the court jester, the fool whose job it is to point out that the emperor has no clothes, *into* the emperor... well, in real life it's a lot less fun than when it's a game for a single day. I've been entirely occupied with inane stupidity, aka Continuum committee meetings, for... quite a while even in terms of this timeline. Somehow more than half of the most advanced species in this universe continue to manage to be complete idiots... it doesn't seem to matter who holds the most privileged positions within Continuum hierarchy. Except that now, I actually have to *pay attention* to these incredibly stupid ideas instead of simply mocking them and then boycotting the rest of the meeting. Frequently I think life was easier when I was a marginalized questioner of the status quo than now, when I'm one of the leaders of the Continuum. (Ouch. The phrase "I'm one of the leaders of the Continuum" still strikes me as an April Fool's joke all by itself.)

In any case, I'm back, and it seems the questions have improved somewhat in my absence. Or perhaps anything that isn't a meeting of the Continuum just seems much more pleasant now.

( To dream the impossible dream... )

( Ah, decisions, decisions... )

( The moving finger hath writ, and having writ, moves on... )