Q (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
qcontinuum) wrote2010-04-27 11:04 am
qcontinuum) wrote2010-04-27 11:04 am
Entry tags:
Catchup for lunch *again?*
OOC: crossposted from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theatrical_muse today.
Okay, okay, I'll stop making puns about catchup. Someday. After you're all dead, most likely.
Prompt 332: Are you more childlike or childish?
That depends on if you're drawing an artificial distinction between the meaning of the words. They both mean "having qualities of a child", but one suggests good qualities and the other suggests bad qualities. I, personally, feel you cannot have one without the other. You like the fact that children are open to a sense of wonder and love to explore? Then you're going to have to deal with inane questions. You like the fact that children have a great sense of fun and spontaneity? Then you're going to have to expect that your plans get ruined by a childlike/childish's person's idea of fun. You like the emotional lability of children, the fact that they're so free with their affections and their enjoyments? Then you're going to have to deal with the meltdowns and the temper tantrums.
You can't have childlikeness without childishness. I don't care what the Childlike Empress tries to tell you. The truth is, she wets the bed. Yeah, you don't want to know how I know that. I mean, I know everything, but still, you really don't want to know how I know that.
(Okay, I confess it, but only because you twisted my arm... she fell asleep on my lap one time. And peed on me. Thank the Continuum, my son's a Q and never actually had a need for waste disposal of any kind, because that's disgusting.)
Of course, I like to believe that my more youthful and spontaneous qualities of fun and a sense of adventure are positive traits, but enough people have told me I'm immature or asked me when I plan to grow up (which, if they are defining "growing up" as "becoming stuffy, stodgy and utterly hidebound", like most people who take pride in how grown up they are do, would be never) that I suspect that I fit both definitions equally well.
Prompt 331: Talk about something you used to love.
I could take this question very, very seriously, and go into lengthy detail about all the mortals I enjoyed who are dead now, or the various Q I held high in my esteem that I am no longer willing to hold a civil conversation with... but life's too short to be so depressing! Even when it's infinite.
So I am going to talk about making planets.
Oh, I used to love making planets. With biospheres. I mean, anyone can make a planet that's all rock. See, I just made one now. Poof, here's a giant rock three times the size of the Earth. Ho-hum. But once you get into biospheres, the work gets delicate and intricate, and one little thing introduced in one area can have devastating changes to the rest of the biosphere. When I was much younger, I found it really challenging to do... fine detail and long range planning have never exactly been my strong suit, shall we say, but there was so much room for originality and creativity that I didn't really mind having to spend half a million years hunched over a very delicate project.
But, you know, I can do those things in my sleep now. Well, if I slept, which I don't, but you get the idea. I've gotten so bored with making fresh new biospheres, I just copy whatever's convenient nowadays. Maybe move some things around a bit. Sticking porcine heads on anthropoid bodies and dressing them in European soldier costumes from Earth's 18th century was cutting some serious corners, I admit, but I just don't find messing around with biosphere creation to be fun anymore. Been there, done that, have about three dozen planets I can lay credit to in this galaxy. (If you look really hard, you can usually find an underwater trench in the shape of my signature. Although of course you wouldn't recognize it because I only started using the letter Q as a name after making contact with humanity. We're not actually named after the seventeenth letter of the Terran English alphabet, flattering as it may be for humans to think so. It's a translation.)
Prompt 329: Get out.
Have any words been more irritating and yet entertaining as well? Think about it. Here I am, omnipotent, with the power to go literally anywhere I can imagine, anywhere I desire. And here's this lowly human being with the lifespan of a mayfly telling me to get out! The hubris of it. Also, the silliness. Because really, what's he going to do if I say no? And yet, here he is posturing as if I'm actually under his command, because of course if he lets the plebes know that he's not in control, why, they might lose faith in their captain, which apparently is a fate worse than death or something. And the really hilarious part of it is that sometimes it works. I do get out, or get off his ship, or whatever, when he asks... sometimes, which is more than I do for most people, and I don't even know if he realizes what that means. The entire Q Continuum cannot easily command me; why does this lowly human being take it for granted that I'll listen to him? And why isn't he in awe, utterly flabbergasted with himself, when it actually works?
I've let other humans get away with it too. Vash, Kathy, Sisko (well, technically Sisko's not fully human, but he certainly wasn't aware that he was part Prophet yet when he told me to get out)... I'd probably let Spock (technically only half human, but that's the fun half) tell me to get out too, but so far he never has.
Muse: Q
Fandom: Star Trek
theatrical_muse today.Okay, okay, I'll stop making puns about catchup. Someday. After you're all dead, most likely.
Prompt 332: Are you more childlike or childish?
That depends on if you're drawing an artificial distinction between the meaning of the words. They both mean "having qualities of a child", but one suggests good qualities and the other suggests bad qualities. I, personally, feel you cannot have one without the other. You like the fact that children are open to a sense of wonder and love to explore? Then you're going to have to deal with inane questions. You like the fact that children have a great sense of fun and spontaneity? Then you're going to have to expect that your plans get ruined by a childlike/childish's person's idea of fun. You like the emotional lability of children, the fact that they're so free with their affections and their enjoyments? Then you're going to have to deal with the meltdowns and the temper tantrums.
You can't have childlikeness without childishness. I don't care what the Childlike Empress tries to tell you. The truth is, she wets the bed. Yeah, you don't want to know how I know that. I mean, I know everything, but still, you really don't want to know how I know that.
(Okay, I confess it, but only because you twisted my arm... she fell asleep on my lap one time. And peed on me. Thank the Continuum, my son's a Q and never actually had a need for waste disposal of any kind, because that's disgusting.)
Of course, I like to believe that my more youthful and spontaneous qualities of fun and a sense of adventure are positive traits, but enough people have told me I'm immature or asked me when I plan to grow up (which, if they are defining "growing up" as "becoming stuffy, stodgy and utterly hidebound", like most people who take pride in how grown up they are do, would be never) that I suspect that I fit both definitions equally well.
Prompt 331: Talk about something you used to love.
I could take this question very, very seriously, and go into lengthy detail about all the mortals I enjoyed who are dead now, or the various Q I held high in my esteem that I am no longer willing to hold a civil conversation with... but life's too short to be so depressing! Even when it's infinite.
So I am going to talk about making planets.
Oh, I used to love making planets. With biospheres. I mean, anyone can make a planet that's all rock. See, I just made one now. Poof, here's a giant rock three times the size of the Earth. Ho-hum. But once you get into biospheres, the work gets delicate and intricate, and one little thing introduced in one area can have devastating changes to the rest of the biosphere. When I was much younger, I found it really challenging to do... fine detail and long range planning have never exactly been my strong suit, shall we say, but there was so much room for originality and creativity that I didn't really mind having to spend half a million years hunched over a very delicate project.
But, you know, I can do those things in my sleep now. Well, if I slept, which I don't, but you get the idea. I've gotten so bored with making fresh new biospheres, I just copy whatever's convenient nowadays. Maybe move some things around a bit. Sticking porcine heads on anthropoid bodies and dressing them in European soldier costumes from Earth's 18th century was cutting some serious corners, I admit, but I just don't find messing around with biosphere creation to be fun anymore. Been there, done that, have about three dozen planets I can lay credit to in this galaxy. (If you look really hard, you can usually find an underwater trench in the shape of my signature. Although of course you wouldn't recognize it because I only started using the letter Q as a name after making contact with humanity. We're not actually named after the seventeenth letter of the Terran English alphabet, flattering as it may be for humans to think so. It's a translation.)
Prompt 329: Get out.
Have any words been more irritating and yet entertaining as well? Think about it. Here I am, omnipotent, with the power to go literally anywhere I can imagine, anywhere I desire. And here's this lowly human being with the lifespan of a mayfly telling me to get out! The hubris of it. Also, the silliness. Because really, what's he going to do if I say no? And yet, here he is posturing as if I'm actually under his command, because of course if he lets the plebes know that he's not in control, why, they might lose faith in their captain, which apparently is a fate worse than death or something. And the really hilarious part of it is that sometimes it works. I do get out, or get off his ship, or whatever, when he asks... sometimes, which is more than I do for most people, and I don't even know if he realizes what that means. The entire Q Continuum cannot easily command me; why does this lowly human being take it for granted that I'll listen to him? And why isn't he in awe, utterly flabbergasted with himself, when it actually works?
I've let other humans get away with it too. Vash, Kathy, Sisko (well, technically Sisko's not fully human, but he certainly wasn't aware that he was part Prophet yet when he told me to get out)... I'd probably let Spock (technically only half human, but that's the fun half) tell me to get out too, but so far he never has.
Muse: Q
Fandom: Star Trek