Strange meme, bad dream, and the weekend that's been

[smokingboot]

And first, thanks to november_girl, strange genetic memery.

176,570 descendants - you're more genetically fit than 51% of the current population -

176,570. Not bad. You're no Mongol warlord, but to have that many copies of your genetic code running around 800 years from now is pretty impressive. You're in the lower middle of the scoring spectrum, but, honestly, when you consider that the cheaters, swindlers, and football players of this world are statistically best-equipped to create children, scoring low is something to be proud of. As you'll see below, some of your lines will die out, but nonetheless your genetic material will thrive here on earth for a long time to come. A close friend of mine created a program to generate family trees for this test. It's based on your unique answers. We accounted for sterility, birth rates, death rates, disease, drug abuse, nitwitism, and accidents and came up with this, for you. Note that you'll have significant offspring with two separate partners; the second of your genetic lines is slighly faded to make the chart easier to read. The second line could represent either a second marriage or an affair:

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 87% on fitnessfactor

Link: The Genghis Khan Genetic Fitness Test written by gwendolynbooks on Ok Cupid

I admit to being somewhat baffled, not so much by the numbers (I knew they were going to be beyond me) but by the disturbing stick men representing genetic success stories; closed legs mean failures, splayed legs mean, uh, well, good spreading material I suppose. There are many variations in between. My beneficial genetic quotient seems high, provided it's in a secondary relationship outside of my main one; my main one presumably occurs with the Monster of Glamis or something, for the results seem to be a plethora of little blair witch style mutants who get both feet stuck in the same trouserleg. Oh well.

A good weekend. Today was spent in the post-stag do company of curlwomble, ephraim and of course, the wonderful larians. The company was excellent, and the day was too hot to do much other than gently froth about Maelstrom, Venice, football, and dawn over the sahara, so that's all we did. Doing nothing is what sundays are for.

Yesterday was just as pleasant, though rather more dynamic; larians, bad_moon_rising, squintywitch and I popped down to Abercam in searh of costume material. Once again Wales proved itself to be pretty but publess; searching for a place that did food led us deep into carnie country; you could hear the banjos in every smoke-filled, deep-fat- fryer scented bar, battling against the roar of the sports channels over torn pool tables. We gave up on the taverns of Flintshire and ate when we reached the shop. Abercam proved once again to be the Chapel of the Grail for funky fabrics; Lovely materials for banners, sashes, kimonos, fur capes and, well, just fur, forced themselves upon us. We had no option but to buy.

But all those luscious materials lending themselves to kimonos must have had a strange effect on my psyche (or this stupid strained ligament in my jaw was giving me subconscious gyp) cos my dreams were horrible.



I dreamt I was with a group of people doing some kind of research in a haunted house; my boss was there, trying to persuade people to free themselves from the burden of money (some things don't change) the house was full of supernatural stuff. Some woman had brought her little girl, and of course, the little one was beginning to hear voices and cry. I couldn't believe the mum had been so stupid.

Then came a horrible creature up the stairs, like a very wrinkled little old man, his skin the colour of parchment, and a terrible malign grin on his face; but the most noticeable things about him were his over sized hands with claw-like nails. I have seen things like this in waking dreams before, but these were more female, white dead skin with purplish bits and black hair falling out, something between an annis and a ghoul. Same kind of clawed hands though. This old thing was more ghoul than annis and had no hair at all. He came into the room, and the sense of horror was very real.

He told me that I had been the Emperor of Japan/a prince/warrior servant of the Emperor of Japan with a name like Nonihito, or Nonihatu, and that I had died with my lungs full of blood, coughing up bits of lung and blood together. I faced the creature at the top of the stairs and asked him why he was chewing these old bones. At that, his whole skeleton seemed to shrivel and melt within him, and he curled up into a ball of dun flesh, lumpen and unformed, and rolled away down the stairs.

Comments

[binidj.livejournal.com]

769,440 descendants
- you're more genetically fit than 62% of the current population -

Hm, maybe I should pop over to a sperm bank ... seems a shame to waste all that potential.

Go for it

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

When Binidgenes rule the earth, we will finally be free of those pesky neanderthals *shakes fist at the departing lowbrows*

406,590

[thalinoviel.livejournal.com]

I didn't do so well as you, but I got lots more dancing puppies... in 2 distinct and continuing lineages! hoorah for polyamory.