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caravan of love

Salivating Preemptively?

  Posted October 17th 2006 by Dae

Good, 'cos I got UPDATES.

Patrons of superlatenight come complete, and indeed have done for some time, with their own wee profiles. Only recently however have I actually coded the ability to edit profile preferences. Not only does everyone now get to upload a picture and pick a website of their choice, but make use of their very own bio (for, you know, those sweet psuedo-erotic European films you're so keen on and this or that new indie trash that you cram your no doubt immaculate ears with and the gory details of your new exercise regime or diet or sexual philosophy or GUYS JUST WHATEVER YOU WANT).

If you have any garbage left over, the prenatal blog system mentioned in the last post has now come to a golden, or at least lightly toasted, fruition. To extend the metaphor, users are encouraged to choose their own spread from a truly incomparable selection of late night jams. Honestly, if you really must blog somewhere - and let's be frank few don't in this day and age - you may as well do it in a place where the pervasive stench of corporate media is rendered rather distant by the heady musk of casio wristwatches, SNES controllers and tobacco stained pipes. The future, it turns out, is the past, which if you ask me is going to put a lot of astronauts out of business.

THE DULLEST NEWS POST YET (WARNING: CONTAINS NEWS)

  Posted October 11th 2006 by Dae

Much has transpired since Ian's meticulously erroneous diatribe. 160 Bruntsfield Place is back at uni and settling in once again to the rhythm of real life. As for the site, I'd say it's starting to come close to an alpha stage of development: that is that much of what I envision users doing is either live or in the pipe-line. If you're not much entertained by dry, dry statements about web development you might want to skip the next couple of paragraphs.



You could be surprised - not in the least interested, but surprised - to know that the site architecture has undergone a complete metamorphosis in the last few weeks. Time has been spent changing the way the site does things without really effecting what it does. The only ramification of this from a user perspective is that you should expect new functions more regularly than has been the case. I'd be tremendously grateful if you'd the report the inevitable bugs to dae at superlatenight dot com.



Let me make one point, one that you may find blindingly obvious, while you're still reading: your SLN account and your forum account are in no way linked. That safely said, there's plenty of new stuff to report. All users now have profiles (albeit modest and rather dull ones) which can be clicked to from any occurrence of their username (e.g. the top of this post). As of this moment their functionality is severely limited, in that the userCP cannot yet change or add profile data (besides profile pic, which you can upload from your local machine), but I'm hoping to have the system more workable within a week or so. User blogs, like our very own Jom's, get displayed under their profile if present. You can expect an 'activate blog' button in the uCP soon.



Other trivial adjustments include the addition of the handsome, space-age background (the permanence of which is the matter of some debate) and a 'remember me' checkbox at login. I'm pleased to report that our fileserver is finally compos mentis, so you can go and rewatch all those classics you've been missing out on. I've been of late much more concerned with creating a system whereby other people can add content than actually adding content myself, but you can be assured that that will be my eventual occupation.



If you've any inclination toward rolling a rogue, check out Aidan's excellent grinding guide in the newly opened (and somewhat sparse) txt section (update: just saw this got stickied in the wow rogue forum, grats Aidan). If you haven't yet joined Gentlemen of Leisure, the most nonchalant collection of recondite Romeos since the Cabaret Voltaire (Zürich's, not Edinburgh's), you'd best hurry along to its brand spanking new forum.



If you'll excuse me, I've just this minute discovered Ian's foolishness in leaving his newly acquired crumpets unguarded. If you act swiftly you may be able to enjoy the sound of my chewing over Ventrilo.

The Pedantry of Pederasts

  Posted September 6th 2006 by PaPa

For those to whom this thought has not yet occurred, it should be made clear that only fucking lady-boys heat up the milk for their hot chocolate on the hob when there's a perfectly serviceable microwave about two feet away from them. Real men have too many things to worry about in their hurly-burly life of sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll to be able to wait more than one minute and forty seconds for their hot chocolate, and they certainly don't have time to wash up a motherfucking saucepan. The kind of pansy who pulls that kind of shit probably has some kind of preference as to which order the milk and chocolate powder are placed in the mug and gets all fucking high and mighty when someone happens to create a 2 meg, 8 second wav file. Well, you now see the product of that unsuccessful compression on this site, and I think you'll agree that it was barely worth the emotional anguish and psychological trauma necessary for its conception. Fucking hob warmers.


In conclusion, PaPa 1-0 Dae.

Special builds, secret techs, illegal moves...

  Posted August 28th 2006 by Dae

Some shit is going down with our file server. Downloads will continue to be wankered while I sort it out.



In other news, SA wins.

Sporks?

  Posted August 18th 2006 by Dae

So, the festival has come to town. The blues guitarists have emerged sleepily from their respective sheds, the fire-eaters from their lives of pyromaniacal crime. While a five minute walk down the Royal Mile inspires near immediate festival fatigue - egged on no little by the rain forest or two's worth of ineptly conceived pamphlets - some notable acts, Peruvian panpipists and Jamaican chess allstars among them, seem to be cashing in on their ethnicity to lucrative effect.



The film festival kicked off only a few days ago, and oh yes, I was there (in the exquisitely decorated and absolutely heaving Cameo screen one, no less). Exchanging pleasantries with people I'm surprised to find I know, I might be forgiven for being fooled into feeling part of the industry. Thanks to Anna, friend and box-office gal some may be familiar with from the Sugar Puffs anecdote, I've taken in more than my non-existant finances would otherwise allow: last night found me face to face (thirty odd rows of audience excepted) with the man responsible for the infamous video to Benny Bennassi's Satisfaction. Leaving the auditorium, I could barely contain the desire to race naked into the streets, camera in hand and boombox on shoulder, awaiting the spontaneous revelry that would inevitably establish my career as music video director extraordinaire.



But I didn't come here to talk about any of that. On Friday the eighteenth of August, a more propitious day having never occurred, what in the world would, or should I be talking about but some especially motherfucking snakes on one particularly motherfucking plane? It was at three this afternoon that I heard the door open, saw Ian look deeply into my blinking eyes and speak those words that my heart had so been longing to hear: "Do you want to go and see Snakes on a Plane?" The slow clamber out of bed, the hastily donned coat and passage through the scathing rain - we four (Aidan and Murray included) were never so intrepid - and after all that, we were not for a second disappointed. The film knew it's business: the three elements we needed, the Snakes, the Plane, and Samuel L., were held like golden carrots before our slavering mouths throughout the monumentally dull opening, before appearing in a dizzying succession. The audience cheering that greeted Jackson's entrance remained frequent throughout any use of the words 'snakes' and 'plane' in the same sentence. The meat of the film left nothing to be desired, consisting as it did entirely of shots involving snakes, planes, or in a number of notable cases, both. The script was peppered with some truly memorable lines, most worthy of mention being Samuel's when, searching the cabin-crew cupboards for weaponry, he indignantly reflects on a package of plastic cutlery with the line "SPORKS?"



This is Dae, thinking so you don't have to.

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