BW Film Rolls 1&2

    Way back in spring quarter I took my first film photos on a black and white roll. When I went to replace the film {in the original Starbucks in Seattle Wa.}, It wasn’t rewound properly and when I opened it the film got over exposed and I thought I lost all my pictures. Then I got home and realised I didn’t know how to process B&W film, so that roll and another one sat in my drawer until today when I learned how to process B&W film. It’s really not very hard. Here are some highlights and interestingly ruined pictures.

I Am Not a Spammer.

Coffee Table

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #81: Technical Support

Last Week As You Recall…

"You may take blindfolds off now."
 "Where are we?" asked Dr. Smith, wobbling on his newly working legs.
  "Is good question.  One I am not going to be answering."
   They were in a snowy, cold place.
     Dr. Smith's first guess was Russia.

-=565: bunker=-

   "One thing I'd just like to say is that you have a strange way of asking for help,  Ruskanik.  Blindfolding a sick man and me for days without food or water and then withholding where we are after all that?  What do you even want from us anyway?"   Questioned Capt. Brown angrily, As the mayor he felt that no one had the right to do this sort of thing to him.  He was wrong.
 The Russian, {whose name was Boris} didn't like Capt. Brown's tone. Or his derogatory name for Russians. "You listen легополио You just thank lucky star we not kill you both when we had chance to.  For days, nothing but complaining and noise! Is lucky you are important or you would be dead.  Follow me." 
 They followed him into the bunker, it was dark.
   And cramped.
     And being covered in snow made it wet inside.
  Dr. Smith, in between falling down because his legs wouldn't obey him, was having flashbacks to his time spent in the undercity of Legopolis.
  The smell of wet Russian didn't help any.

-=-

-=566: holding chamber=-

"…Nice place you have here." Ventured Dr. Smith.
  The assembled Russians stared.
   Dr. Smith wondered if any of them recognized him, then dissmissed that thought because the last time he had been in Russia it had been nowhere near here.
    Probably.
      Capt. Brown was working his way through the 246 Calming Steps To Not Killing Them that his Psychiatrist had recommended. 
        He was up to 245: 'Try Killing them with your Mind'
 It wasn't working.
  "Sorry to keep you waiting Gentlemen, I wanted you to meet our head Of Robotic Servant Acquisitions,  Ms. Teresa Phillips. "  The Speaker backed away quietly but quickly.  
  Ms. Teresa Phillips {If that is her real name} Strolled in front of the glass cage pushed against one wall.  "Good to See you all again." She said.
   "So you're head of Robotic servant Acquisitions," Growled Capt. Brown, "Get a lot of work do you?"
   "Actually, Yes.  I Apologise for our treatment of you both, but we couldn't have you guessing why we brought you here, now could we?"
     "I Already know."  Claimed Dr. Smith.
        "Know what?"
          "Why you brought us here.  Jeeves is exporting a lot of data to somewhere far away, but close, and you can't get him to move or respond in any way, right?  How do I interface to him through his containment system?"
   Ms. Teresa Phillips has Shocked, Her face showed it.
    Capt. Brown Leaned in conspiratorially and said with a quick wink and a big grin; "He's pretty clever, I'd do what he says."
  She gestured vaguely to the blinking lights, buttons and levers spread across the room.  "All that keeps him in, but you talk to the cell using the keyboard."
  The keyboard turned out to be a beat up Remington wired into the wall.
    Dr. Smith typed: Hi Jeeves, I'm here.
 Nothing responded.
Dr. Smith Typed:
     @Jeeves, $Force.Wakeup; var. #Jeeves:
If var. #Jeeves=Wake.Up $Shutdown; var. #Jeeves.Tele.Com.Unit Authcode=#876 =/startstart=00/ If all.that=yes Order; Jeeves.Prime.Directive.1

Dr. Smith figured that ought to do it.  Even if all this machine was doing was printing these commands out on the other side of the glass this would wake Jeeves up,  shut down the telecom unit, and force Jeeves to make tea.
   "Is there any way to insert tea leaves, one liter of water and a cup into the containment unit?" asked Dr. Smith. 
"Is that Crucial to his recovery?" Replied Ms. Teresa Phillips
  "Yes."
Ms. Teresa Phillips snapped her fingers and barked things in Russian.
  Out of a tube inside the glass cage dropped the things Dr. Smith had requested.
Jeeves awoke.
   Screaming.
 Actually, he was playing a high C, but it sounded like screaming.
  He changed pitch, went higher.
   The glass broke.
    Jeeves failed to escape.
 The Russians laughed.  "What?" Said a big one, "You think can escape just by break glass?  What you think buttons and levers do?  They keep you in, is what they do."
   Just outside of where the glass used to be was a force-field, an electric one.
    Filled with pain.
Jeeves had tried to jump out of his prison, but had gotten shocked, fell on the floor of the cage, twitching.
"Doctor Smith, We expect more of you."
 "But…I didn't–" 

  "Уведите его."

The Big Russian seemed to have some semblance of authority, because the guards obeyed him. 
    "Wait!" Boomed Capt. Brown, "If He says He didn't do anything, He didn't do anything."
That Didn't work.

-=-

They Shivered in a much more traditional prison. 

  "Just like old times, eh James?" 

    "Yes, but I don't think your dad is hiding in this secret Russian place, Zachary." 

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #68: Dinner at the Smith's

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Last week as you recall, Dr. Smith had been tasked with the undesirable job of playing host at the feeding of what seemed to be hundreds of seven to nine year-old's. 

-=fig. 516: at the dinner table=-

Jeeves had scrounged up what he could, but the food supplies were mysteriously low.
This was odd, because the pantry seemed to go on forever.
 It's just that it was…empty. 
  Dr. Smith stood, knocking his chair over in the process.
"Attention." It wasn't the sort of weaselly 'attention's you get at say, town hall meetings, but more a…command.  But spoken without a commanding tone. As it turned out, it was quite effective.
  Cutlery clattered to the plates, some with food still attached.
Dr. Smith spoke;  
  "This is the last bit of food we have in the house.  With the City under siege, I don't know how easy it will be to acquire more.  There is always the tunnels, but I would rather not head back to the basement.  The streets are filled with the sort of men that had the house hostage, that is to say, Frenchmen, and there is no door on the roof, but I am willing to hear alternate modes of escape."   They all started talking at once. "Quiet!" Dr. Smith said, with an exclamation point, so that it was obvious that he was serious.  "One at a time.  Raise your hand."   Capt. Brown raised his hand, and, without waiting to be called on, continued. "What about that magical Door that can go anywhere?"
Dr. Smith had obviously thought of this, "Impossible to control, and it only works one way. Once you're there, you're there.  Next?"  A child raised his hand. "You seem smart, why not just invent something that kills all the bad guys and be done with it?"
  "The Closest thing I have ready is this bomb that uses atoms, it's effective, certainly, but it would kill us all.  Next."
     "We could fly out, there's no ceiling." 
       "There is, it's the ground wrapped around like a Möbius Strip.  Next."
   "Why not just use the back door?"
 Dr. Smith was about to dismiss this idea out of hand when he realized that it wasn't a half-bad idea.
  "What's your name, boy?"
    "Andrew, sir."

-=fig. 517: andrew=-

The boy was the Picture of Dr. Smith at that age, uncomfortable, quiet, and short.  He even had a little Bow-tie which no doubt never quite fit.
      "The sir is completely unwarranted."  Dr. Smith had taken a liking to the boy. 
"Alright, Sir."  Andrew said, glumly.  He was worried that he had offended Dr. Smith, somehow.   Rightly too, for Dr. Smith's default tone was that of irritation, not that Dr. Smith had noticed.
 Having just stolen Capt. Brown's food when he was distracted, Teresa had a question for Dr. Smith.  "Zacha–"  Dr. Smith interrupted her. "Dr. Smith"
   Teresa was confused.
  "He gets to call you by your name." She gestured at Capt. Brown.
   Dr. Smith replied. "He's my friend."
    Capt. Brown leaned toward Teresa conspiratorially, "He has a very defined sense of friend, I've known him almost his entire life, So I qualify.  Don't take it personally."
Teresa Shuddered to clear her head of the extreme sanity that was Dr. Smith's mind, and continued with her question. "Alright, regardless, my question is: Why can't we hear gunfire?"  She was of course referring to the bedlam that is main street Legopolis:

-=fig. 518: bedlam, with a side of mustard=-

"Because we're half a dimension away from anywhere.  I'm done eating." He hadn't touched his meal  "I'm going out, to see about more food. Goodbye."
 Teresa looked at Capt. Brown, "Is he always that brusque?"
  "Yes."

-=-

-=fig. 519: the back door=-

As much as Dr. Smith loved his house, he was glad to be out.
  He had never been good at…people.  Machines were better.
Machines didn't call you 'brusque' behind your back.
  The air was fresh, shame about the gunpowder smell.
From the other side of the house Dr. Smith could hear the traditional sounds of war, gunfire, screams of pain and…cheering?   There also seemed to be a man selling hot turkey legs and cups commemorating the big battle.
  Dr. Smith had to hand it to the street merchants of Legopolis, they were tenacious.
 Buying a hot turkey leg would put him too much in the open, although if bystanders were purchasing them how dangerous could it be?
    Then he re-thought that statement, in light of the screams.
     Besides, the grocery store was only a couple of blocks away.
Unfortunately, those couple of blocks were swarming with the worst sort of villains.
 Foreign Villains.
He would have to do it, secretly.

 

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-

Sorry

No Weekly adventure this week, my camera was dropped 12 inches onto a wood floor, and now it won't turn on.

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 -=-

FAILED AD

I Don't click on ads.  Ever. I May watch them on television, or tolerate ENJOY! them on MacBreak weekly, but I don't click on them.  Also, I use a Mac, so this stupid ad, isn't going to work on me.

Stupid ad

This redirected me from my intended website, played a HELPFUL!!! WOMAN'S!!! VOICE!!! :-)!!! 

Informed me that I had just become eligible for a 1000$ WAL-MART GIFT CARD!!! 

And instructed me, nay forced me to click on the "Pop-Up window!!!" Especially since it looked like it was a window hovering over my desktop.  It almost had me, until I realized that the Pop-UP WiNdOW!!!  Was for a windows PC.

Quite a nice little FaKe PoP-Up WinDOW!!!,  If I used Windows {and was entirely stupid} I might think "Oh, a window popped up, I better press the close button.  But of course by then it's too late.

 

In case any of my windows using readers read this, always close your windows with a keyboard shortcut. 

And don't shop at Wal-Mart if you can help it.

EDIT: The real TWiT Twitter is here: http://twitter.com/twitlive
The Twitter link at Twit.tv goes here: http://twitter.com/twit

And I fell for it.

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.