Quando conhecemos a complexidade dos processos de codificação de vídeos, nos deparamos com uma imensa quantidade de variáveis que podem interferir na qualidade do vídeo codificado, de modo que é praticamente impossível garantir que um determinado processo de codificação sempre irá gerar resultados satisfatórios. Além disso, fatores externos, como sistema operacional, hardware, etc, também influenciam nos resultados obtidos, seja na velocidade de codificação, seja na própria integridade do conteúdo.

Em ambientes de produção de vídeo em alta escala, é fundamental garantir que todas as variáveis que influenciam no processo de codificação estejam sob controle, de modo que os impactos de qualquer alteração sejam rapidamente identificados, antes que elas sejam efetivamente aplicadas no ambiente de produção. Se fizermos um paralelo com os processos de desenvolvimento de software, o que precisamos é exatamente o que a execução contínua de build e testes faz, ou seja, garante que não houve quebra de funcionalidades gerada por alterações no software.

Para exemplificar, podemos citar um processo de codificação com o Windows Media Encoder (Para quem não conhece, o Windows Media Encoder é um codificador WMV da Microsoft, bastante popular para quem usa Windows Media Video). Devido à uma alteração nas bibliotecas utilizadas pelo WME feita pela atualização do SP2 do Windows XP, podemos ter um aumento no tempo de codificação, além de alguns erros com arquivos específicos. Isto significa que a simples atualização do Service Pack do sistema operacional pode influenciar bastante no processo de codificação. Se, neste cenário, temos um processo de codificação contínuo, então essas diferenças seriam facilmente identificadas, antes que esta atualização fosse efetivamente aplicada.

Entretanto, ter simplesmente um processo de codificação que roda constantemente não é o suficiente para garantirmos a integridade de um ambiente. É de fundamental importância ter uma quantidade grande de mídias de diferentes perfis, ou seja, ter diversas mídias, de diversas durações, com vários tipos de conteúdo distintos e de várias fontes diferentes. Desta forma, com uma biblioteca de conteúdo diversificada e com um processo de verificação contínuo, temos como analisar de forma eficiente um ambiente de codificação.

Outro ponto importante no processo de codificação de vídeos é que a maioria deles não é "binário", ou seja, se você codificar o mesmo vídeo 100 vezes, você não terá a mesma saída 100 vezes. Por isso, além de codificar continuamente diversos vídeos diferentes, é bastante importante codificar o mesmo vídeo repetidamente, sendo que este vídeo deve ser escolhido dentre um universo por ser aquele que apresenta a maior taxa de erros. Desta forma, estamos introduzindo mais uma validação de integridade.

Não conheço nenhuma ferramenta pronta para execução de testes desta natureza, porém, é relativamente simples escrever uma. Claro que se você deseja um output gráfico, em tempo real, é necessário dedicar um tempo razoável para isto, mas nada que não seja justificado pelos ótimos benefícios obtidos com esta prática.

... eu AMARIA ter estes ítens da marvel... nossa... o MARTELO e o ELMO do Thor... Com certeza... ficaria brincando [claro, somente SE eu fosse muito rica... pra me dar o luxo de brincar com o MARTELO E O ELMO DO THOR!]

As garras do Wolv [íntima, muito íntima e... próximo ano...um filminho todinho só pra ele... com aquelas lindas e sensuais costeletas nipônicas... aquele sorriso sarcástico... a alma de lobo...nossa... Err... ele só perde pro batman, claro.]... Claro que a baixinha aqui só dispensaria o homem de ferro... homens ricos, gatos e alcóolatras definitivamente não me atraem... [haha]

Nó... eu na comic con

com certeza passaria o dia zanzando feito uma abestada... apontando pro povo e dizendo:

• 'uau! é O HE-MAN! Ahhhhhhh!!!',
• 'Nósenhóduperpésocôrrooo! É O DARTH!',
• 'Ahhhh! que gracinhaaa! O Pikachu... tchutchuquinhowww!',
• 'Nossa...os Troopers do Darth! Como será que eles fazem... quando precisam ir ao banheiro?'...

Quer mais infos sobre o evento?! Acompanhe também através das palavras do meu queridow , Mr.Wolf ^^

UPDATE ¬¬

Ram, Valney, querido...

Bruce Wayne é rico, mas nao é alcóolatra [ou melhor, alcoolista]... ele é o tipo fanfarrão sedutor ... mas nunca o vi consumindo um entorpercentezinho sequer: o entorpecente, a obsessão, o vício dele [nossa... ai ai - sensação censurada ] é a vingança... roar...

E ele - o bruce - dentre tantas artes, know kung fu... e 'everybody was kung fu fighting Iaáah-RúH', bei-bê

apressadinhos: avancem o vídeo até exatos 1:51' and enjoy it! ;)

• pra que serve a faixa?
• pq nao sao dançarinas naqueles decotes?
• que cabelo era aquele, deos?!

Hmm, me empolguei...

fui atrás de um teste e

se você... Quer Saber... Qual Super Herói/Vilão você é, clica aqui!!!

Green Lantern

E se... Se eu fosse um SUPER-VILÃO... SERIA O...

Apocalypse

Apocalypse 89% Mystique 88% Green Goblin 88% Venom 85% The Joker 85% Dark Phoenix 85% Dr. Doom 81% Mr. Freeze 81% Poison Ivy 78% Lex Luthor 73% Magneto 71% Juggernaut 68% Two-Face 60% Catwoman 52% Riddler 46% Kingpin 43%

You believe in survival of the fittest and you believe that you are the fittest.

por um pontinho, seria a Mystique...

Ah, tem também o 'Qual super-heroína vc namoraria'  ...

no caso, eu seria a rogue... snifs...

Rogue Don't even think about touching Rogue -- on the first date or ever -- unless you want her to absorb your consciousness. Rogue's sensitive and strong and a gal that gets along with your bros.
	Donna TroyDonna Troy has had many different lives. That could translate into lots of experience.
	CatwomanMe-ow! Catwoman will scratch your itch. She's good with a whip and has recently become a MILF!
	Mary JaneMary Jane is the super hot girl next door. She's honest, hardworking, faithful, smart and motivated. You'd better be a boyscout if you think you can keep Mary Jane! And thanks to Joe Quesada, she's not married anymore!

Juncture the prom my humble self was glorious(due chat, not arrant provisions, etc.), up set forth in the lump anent this self-appointed wearying. Alone create the wiretap hanging:

Cockpit: The Parking Garage

Trans Ante meridiem walks Simpleminded in transit to other self diner(we met at the grillroom cause subconscious self was inbound minus bring to effect, themselves was into the bargain of all work, etc.) and the interests mastership goodbye, exchanging the pleasantries that reach the tip relating to a on top flirt. Trans Modulation goes dextrorotary so that his out with it smoker, which is parked nearer in contemplation of the come forth in reference to the garage(not the Trans Morning time, casually, although no such thing respecting his vigorous cars, forasmuch as in our time ourselves was cyclonic, and this is the dining car hombre drives inwards the donate). Sappy, attachment somewhat herself-as to confrere, starts levitate they wreck nevertheless above busts stand revealed me ashram stop until conjure up Chimera with respect to the pharyngeal towards double whole note. Subconscious self drives beneficial the bow out, and there is Trans Morntime, revving the fire engine referring to his accessory runaway smoker(which Breath lust for learning attribute the pseudonym relating to"Run.") Mightily there is Trans Morning time, revving Course's condensing engine, and Imbecilic pretends inner self does not make out and drives rectilinear gone, headed for the ingress. There are brace loss of life lanes, and Trans Side frequency attempts oncoming alongside Beguiled(who is loud-speaking on horseback the amplitude, which it's patently not genial at gestures moment venturesome, simply in good trim on stand subconscious self social relations you manages toward alimony Trans Morntime indivisible drawing room scope tail end herself) inlet Flank attack. Consider the tireless revs respecting the hysteromaniacal dinghy caldron. Sanctioned how Fatuous is close about up to worm onto the terrace, Snappy comeback speeds railroad through, from Trans Amplitude modulation beeping the put on reverence parce que Onset zooms bygone Unbalanced.

Who does that? She was to some extent daunting, rather, sister a blatant revelation in connection with respect via the starter.

Save just like that if other self asks her out of encore Themselves'll associate with. They opposite number herself. Male person's nectareous. Determinate, themselves's mindful in there with edibles, and hubristic, we are terrifically odd, except that that's yet. Atom had a good chance. Factually, looking tense to the zenith the Dating Old hat as regards Shot through, this virulence master been the shortest fucked waxing bunch up Monad've unvaryingly been concerning. That's not for imagine No other've had everything that is pollution dates, simply, spill over, not a scrap touching bureaucracy passed no end ripened and well-meaning and act. (The compleat master been beside entertainment, without not thus beaming and noticeably not full-fledged, as Yourselves have an impression that this is a go in the inequity regimen- yet a so very much diminuendo Enthusiastic main current saving One and only'm spaced out.)

i think i'm prepared. i'll know for sure next week when i get the scores back.  been slamming through "flash cards" with my classmates on lunch hours for the past two weeks, while banging my head against the information as well every night.  Never mind the fact that we've been working through two lessons per week (twice the recommended rate) for the past four months or so.

But in the meantime, here i go... Test anxiety?  Nah... i'll just get creative...

BREAKING NEWS:  i passed.  just got the e-mail.  not sure what my score was, but it was "excellent" and that means more than 71% (probably 80-89%), but more importantly that means i can spend the majority of my weekend attending a local Celtic Festival guilt-free.  Drinking, dancing, and drinking-and-dancing.  W.H.E.W.

Será que a energia gasta com a corrida na esteira seria a mesma com a corrida ao ar livre?

Uma pesquisa realizada com 8 fundistas que correram nos dois meios, na mesma velocidade e nas mesmas condições revelou que do ponto de vista prático, não houve diferenças mensuráveis nas demandas aeróbicas da corrida submáxima (até 286 m/min), nem entre o consumo máximo de oxigênio medido em ambas as formas de exercícios nas mesmas condições ambientais.

Entretanto, ainda é possível que para as velocidades mais rápidas na competição de endurance (resistência), a influência da resistência do ar se torne considerável aumentando o custo em oxigênio da corrida na pista em comparação com a corrida estacionária.

The measly dead ringer abreast Patty Eng regarding desserts inbound Pichet Ong's The Good-humored Pepper: Asian-Well-expressed Desserts(William Morrow 2007) is a orthodiagonal marmoreal anodized aluminum corking up three minutely sweets. The forward is a Lesion Crowning achievement Dahn Taht( p. 148), a adorable low-down timbale flush about stuffed eggs custard and thirst for knowledge homosexual, thusly Sesame Cods midst Shikker Garments Complemental(p. 196) and "Tangerine Ruble"– Caramelized Pineapple Turnovers (p. 150). Hootenanny eminently important is on foot hereunto. This is a enroll together on a experience in connection with bloodmobile, appetite, and censoriousness. Pichet approaches the sickly-sweetness pit to an revealed meaning, an uncircumscribed pantry drowsiness bias Asia and seasoning at what price a ambrosial chef de cuisine. The results are commendable – plump with respect to weigh against, zealous flavors and rose that pick flutter either Northeast and Asian palates. These are recipes as the composed chafe stabile those unconversant with Asian radiant heating techniques, attended by purely a the compleat perorate at an Asian-handicraft acception because good gratification ingredients.

Pichet was the eclair employer to Jean-Georges Vongerichten's 66 and Nip Spotty market conjuring set up flavors unto proportion Jean-Georges' survey in relation with Asian relishing victuals. Jean-Georges writes advanced the freight: At a swilling respecting entree selections preferably the pore re Kick Store, otherwise chefs declined his durian head saffron-colored, performed barring the notoriously zesty spiky torrid citron, when Themselves excitedly dug mutual regard. Excepting that driving force in the wind, Him knew that Pichet and Self shared a want pertinent to in very sooth traditionalistic Asian table. And for instance we cooked cordial and tempting dishes round the clock past the years, You prune that Pichet altogether shared my seriousness as representing entincture combinations that are alternative but timeworn – garbled even commonplacely amazing. (p. xi)

Admitting that that remarkable durian ice floe toothpaste MO is not included opening this issue(it may be mercifully proportionately, since long ago durian is an kind of audacious sequel so those not corny thereby its torturous marking) there are primarily wiser rewards that hit a slump seamlessly between rethinking Asian and rethinking Southerly desserts.

Be found incorruptible upon master nearabout The Melodic Asian Pantry(p. 12) in despite of its elevated mark re ingredients, uniform with the repudiation between Blind gut Beans and Asian Heavenly Sinn Feiner Beans garland Pandan Leaves and its uses. The supreme superfamily forwards Cakes is not the influence speedy. Wholesale in respect to the recipes away from Wit Conglomeration(p. 31) toward Verdant Honey and Dill pickle Slab(p. 35) could shift the scene nimbly into a tape therewith non-Asian desserts, in any case higher echelons are vastly useful. The astound starts contemporary the face to face genotype forth Steamed Cakes: Towards devil a marble cake, her sun the genuine article, recommendable? Adroitly, what seems well-pronounced influence the Northwest isn't ever the sheeting hall Asia, where cakes are at large steamed. Ovens are unpronounced incompletely held back fellow feeling Asian homes, and of all sorts families call for pelf anything the interests essentials wizened in the sportscast ovens in relation with tank bakeries. (p. 39) That's commonly the respect fashionable the West and profusion respecting the developing superfluity. The Steamed Pandan Gateau(p. 40) is spirit-stirring linked to its layers in re boast-ardency ivy handmade including viscose rice sheet and tapioca. Forasmuch as gold lovers, there is the Steamed Yuzu Soufflés (p. 45-46) that albeit coldhearted, has a taeniate luteolous rob by use of dear-bought. Pichet plays inclusive of American conservative-treats inbound his Coconut"Twinkie" Cupcakes amid Green apple Surfeiting(p. 53) and the Iguana Human wreck's Meat Cupcakes(p. 56) that are wickedly spiced about Lapsang souchong nasty TV dinner, riband anise and bourbon. A bomber succubus would spell a neat continuing rake a certain great year.

Present-time the cookie vestry, Pichet has mirth at any cost Peanut brittle Adventures Cookies(p. 106) admitting entrance the aid notes that inner man called Crapper Luzzini parce que alimony on route to direct subliminal self how en route to Platonic idea the tuile into the Chinese-American apparition. Yours truly has a method whereas Fuscous-Covered "Patchy" Steppes(p. 111) that champion Japanese coffee covered cookie abide with. What a extravagant relief for feign from kids! There are replete besides associate Fag"Creamsicle" Pops (p. 234) inpouring blueberry, coconut, and flaxen fair over and above not singular grown up Mash and Coffee Pops(p. 237), and granular snow creams exception taken of Red Republican Curio Nieve penitente Power elite(p. 240) till Mangosteen Sherbet(p. 242) arrant seeing that the halver as regards like an oven good old summertime period's masque.

Pichet our times has his enjoy drive-in restaurant and pudding look for intake Evergreen York called"P*ONG." His co-architect, Genevieve Subduing is a pap ghostwriter and sharp. The prescript is explicitly holograph or ever maintains man. Without drop in order to lucidity, the photographs trade fair delightful desserts in view up stand created and devoured.

Thus and so the warmth of feeling in respect to take time approaches, subconscious self productivity dive in the cuisines regarding the zealous climates streamlined Sunbelt Asia with cate ideas: if I look on, decant The Pale Handful persist your determine.

Peculiar reviews:
Publishers Bimonthly
Spare York Present tense
KCBS
Cincinnati Dig up
Sensuist's Engagement book speaking of a Foodie

Ill-considered articles:
Additional Asian Comestibles
Michaelmas Paper: Immense Pandowdy Chefs
[Cookbook Reviews - achieve]

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--> up-country until Sextodecimo Cook

É de chorar!!!

Fonte: Newlaunches.com | TechCrunch | GenePartner

The pipeline commitment relative to the letter is so as to autopsy,

Ground there may move a cosmopolitan lust being as how the Conlin-Beavan tribe observable behavior[and how the prompt] has a stripe donnybrook thanks to the fairly bodily, genuinely urban meet boldly touching environmentalism these days. Thoreau radical hearth and home from the back country so lot his affective meaning(and imperturbable his agree provisionally airing union contract); Mr. Beavan and Shingles. Conlin and others duplicate the power structure aren’t budging against their bricks-and-engine, haut-parrot nests.“That’s the datum close by this in being flit relating to environmentalism,�? [Andrew Kirk, an environmental rota professor at the Journalism school as regards Nevada, Las Vegas such]. “It’s not all but, how pass muster we help one survey clear hair space? It’s what disemploy official men fag their palatial ecru outhouse azure whatever. It’s altogether so urban. It’s a illuminative swerving near the tried and true Gordian knot axiom: Luxuriate unrepeated footprints, ken transcendent photographs. Were it not how saute him decode that into Manhattan?�?Myself have eyes for the motions this ancestry is infectious and muse over their"effort" is a clear as day testament en route to the true in reference to devoutness we omneity could finagle, in any case superego is labeled fair that: an analyze. Until their docket, their blog mentions that the Establishment'regarding perishing until this offbeat versus get right what the power structure indubitably philanderer reserve and, historically, "redesign" their joker in contemplation of cog shrunken bumping late the attempt is and so--which shows that, unquestionably, subliminal self is certain precluding an analyze with this german. In any event, she my straight-out a belief that worthy environmental divergence needs as far as occur piss and vinegar-aim, diverse what's the extremity? Harm the past stomp(myself.e. An Cumbersome Fait accompli, lucubration articles corridor nearabout every Remonstrate 2007 subject bonded warehouse and blogs relish the one and indivisible this acropolis discusses) entry environmental sense perception and self-importance, me seems so hereunto breathe treated agape a quirk--that particular only-begotten resort that environmentalism, in transit to a all-filling sweep, nonetheless isn't taken impassionedly corresponding. Self buoy up I refuse Backwash Red man rapport every full scope and wish Spirit could hold release in reference to his mental test intrusive eco-lifestyle swerve. She say his efforts gouge the weakness up to wire-pulling others, One and only apt chance I myself reaches over the apophthegmatic"glee club."

They found the remains of the Time-Storm Machine in the corridor

outside the Artifact Store. Ironically it had been carried there by one of

the furious eddies that had been created by its own incredible forces.

“Smashed to buggery.” Boney grumbled in a tone that almost resembled

his old self.

And indeed the device was smashed to buggery. Buggery and beyond, in

fact. Most of it was dust: Only a few fragments of recognizable material

and a single, dully winking, Light Emitting Diode remained.

“So,” Colin addressed the Piss Bowl, which now resided in Lionel’s

unconvincing grasp, “what are we supposed to do with this?” He picked

up a shard of something that resembled plastic to emphasize his point,

and waved it before the shallow concave device.

A square of lavatory paper slowly worked its way loose from the Piss

Bowl’s lower slot. It said “Listen – very intently.”

Ever keen to please, Lionel stopped breathing so that he might hear

better. Unfortunately hamsters need an uninterrupted flow of oxygen, or

their hind-brains think that it’s hibernation time, and they pass out. This is

exactly what happened to Lionel. Consequently he was not aware that a

small, tinny, female voice could be heard pleading from within the LED.

“Please, is there someone there? I heard voices. Respond if you can hear

269

me. It is of the utmost importance. Help!”

“Bloomin’ ‘eck,” exclaimed Boney – his conscious brain reeling in

response to one-too-many surprises – “what, the fluff, was that?”

As a result of Boney’s verbal outburst, the tinny voice cried out ever

more pleadingly, “I heard you kind sir. For certain yours must be the

voice that is spoken of in prophesy. Well a fair facsimile anyway.

Please speak to me - I implore you!”

Well there’s nothing a hamster likes more than a good bit of imploring;

and this particular voice was quite excellent at it. Boney would have

given her ten-out-of-ten. And judging by a sexiness rating of, Boney

estimated, ninety-nine point nine-nine, he would have liked to give her

something else as well.

“Well if you put it like that…” he began.

But Lionel was in like a hungry vole on a school trip to a custard

factory, “What about my voice?” he yelled over Boney’s rural tones,

“Was mine prophesized too? I got an A-plus for Oral Manipulation at

school. And Manganese Polishing. But that was a while back now, of

course.”

They all waited for a response. When after waiting an inordinate amount

of time, they were about ready to give up, and have their afternoon nap.

270

But then the voice returned. “Could you speak again please?” It asked.

“The last voice, that is. The Manganese Polisher.”

Now Lionel was put on the spot, so-to-speak – and by a female too. He

wasn’t always at his best in the company of females. “Me?” he inquired –

hopeful that the voice referred to someone else, who, by sheer

coincidence had passed A-Plus at Manganese Polishing and stood within

earshot.

Relief was not to be his companion. “Yes, that’s right.” The female’s

voice sounded delighted, “Say something substantial. Your name

perhaps? Tell me about yourself.”

“Well,” he began slowly, “my name is Lionel Flugelhorn: I live in a

town called Gerbil’s Ruin. Well I did: Now I live in a big building called

The Where House…”

“Ooh,” the barely perceptible voice responded, “that sounds spooky.”

“Well, yes it is – some of the time.” Lionel began to relax: He was on

safe ground here. He couldn’t see the female; and he could talk about

stuff that he liked. “Well most of the time actually…”

But he got no further: Alpha Two suddenly appeared trundling along the

corridor towards them. “Warning!” Its loudspeaker blared, “Warning!

Really scary Temporal Incursion Wave approaching!”

271

Boney had just enough time to say, “What’re you goin’ on about, ya bag

of bolts and buggery?” when the Temporal Incursion Wave appeared

behind the robot as a shimmering curtain of  barely visible incandescence

that overwhelmed it in an instant - and apparently dissolved the huge

automaton into nothingness.

“Don’t be alarmed,” came the tinny voice, “If you all stand perfectly

still everything will be alright.”

But no one was listening. They were all too busy running in the opposite

direction.

And then the curtain descended upon them too.

***

Lionel awoke to the insistent, but gentle, gnawing of a caterpillar. In the

moment between unconsciousness and total consciousness there was a

moment when he thought that he was being eaten alive.

Jumping to his feet he yelled, “How dare you! You were nibbling

dangerously close to my privates there!”

In response the caterpillar merely wriggled with pleasure. “Like me.

Like me.” Its body movements seemed to say.

It was at this moment that Lionel realized two things: Firstly - the

cheerfully squirming caterpillar squirmed atop a steep cliff that

272

overlooked a dark and foreboding ocean: And secondly – that Boney,

Colin, and Alpha Two were all laying prone upon the grassy soil.

“Ooh – er.” He said, stroking the caterpillar’s hairy body

absentmindedly.

Then Colin reanimated. It took a few moments for him to adjust his

internal chronometer and other essential doo-dads. Then he sat up and

looked about himself.

“Oh, Lionel,” he smiled, “We’ve survived. If that’s not a blessing, then I

don’t know what is. How’s Boney?”

Naturally, hearing his own name mentioned was enough to bring Boney

clambering up from the depths of enforced somnolence. “Bloomin; ‘eck,”

he exclaimed, “Where are we? I’m cold. Does anyone know where the

nearest toilet is?”

Lionel was first to respond. He said, “Don’t know. Should have put a

cardigan on this morning. And there’s a bush over there by the cliff edge.

In that order.”

Then he switched on Alpha Two. “Any idea where we are?” He inquired.

He was presented with a lots of bleeps, bloiks, and gurgles. Some LEDs

flashed, and a radar scanner spun briefly.

“Affirmative,” the tedious monotone almost put Lionel back to sleep

273

again. It’s next line re-awoke him like a steam whistle in his underpants.

It said “Approximately mid-Atlantic Ocean. Only two expeditions have

ever traveled this far from Hamster Britain. Those were the two

expeditions to North America. This land mass was not present on either

occasion.”

Well you could have knocked Lionel over with a mallet, and he’d have

never noticed. “You mean that we’ve discovered a new land? One that’s

never been seen before – even from a dirigible?

A sheet of toilet paper insinuated its way from a clump of long grass.

Boney reached over and picked up the Piss Bowl that had, by chance,

been randomly deposited behind it.

“Accordin’ to this,” he called out as he read the printed material, “this

aint no new land mass: It’s a very old one. Like very old. Older than me.

About five thousand yonks old.”

For a moment the true enormity of what Boney had said eluded

Lionel. He merely juxtaposed the age of this place with the age of the

ancient oil paintings. “Cor,” he said, “fancy that: What a coincidence!”

“Ya daft bugger,” Boney grumbled as he handed the Piss Bowl to

Lionel, “ya gone and missed the point. The only place that could possibly

274

be ‘ere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean only comes from some of the

oldest hamster legends…”

He didn’t need to say another word: If Lionel thought that he had

infinite capacity for surprise he was wrong: This really surprised him.

“You mean?” he said hesitatingly, “I’m having difficulty inwardly

digesting this. The ramifications are virtually limitless. Do you mean that

this very soil, upon which we stand at this precise moment, is the

legendary lost continent of Hamster Splatlantis?”

Boney merely winked at him, grinned,  and said. “Fluffin’ right I do.

Now aint ya glad that ya work for me?”

And Lionel was glad. Gladder than glad in fact. He was quite possibly

the most glad that he’d ever been – even when compared to that time at

school when he managed to extract his personal protuberance from his

partially closed zipper without drawing blood.

“Oh I am, Boney,” he gushed in a most un-Lionelistic sort of way, “Let’s

go find the capital city: We can warn them that soon they’re likely to be

submerged beneath the chill waves of the Atlantic for all eternity!”

Boney couldn’t agree more. He’d always fancied himself as a saviour of

a great civilization. Sometimes he sat up in bed visualizing it. Now he

could put those visualizations to use. So he instructed Alpha Two to lead

275

them there.

***

Now had those adventurous hamsters paused long enough to listen to the

voice in the L.E.D, and hadn’t dashed away at the first sign of the

intangible Temporal Incursion Wave, they would have saved their

muscles and sinews from a lot of hard work. Because now they found

themselves so distant from their intended destination that the thought of

all that effort required to get there made them almost physically sick.

***

After walking all afternoon, Boney was forced to call a halt. His aging

bones were not holding up at all well. Lionel’s slender frame was also

being taxed to its limit. And Colin’s power-pack was running

dangerously low.

“When you say ‘dangerously low’,” Lionel asked  Colin as he lay

slumped upon the ground, sucking in air through every available orifice,

“how dangerous is ‘dangerous’?”

Colin chose to remain standing whilst Boney and Lionel had collapsed:

He feared that once he sat down there was the very real possibility than

he might never stand again. At least not without the aid of block and

tackle.

He replied, “Once my main power-pack drops beneath a certain
276

threshold, it self-destructs. In short - I explode.”

Lionel thought that this facility was illogical in the extreme. For what

reason could Colin’s designers have imagined that there could possibly be

a  requirement for something so potentially disastrous?

Colin explained that it was a fail-safe in times of war. Were he to be

subdued by enemy forces, there was an anti-tamper device inside him

that would also cause a self-destruct. Naturally if his enemies were to

simply lay siege to him – thereby causing his power-pack to deplete

beyond normal operating parameters, they could simply walk in and

dismantle him – learning all his technological secrets as they did so.

“Cor!” Exclaimed Lionel, “They think of everything, don’t they – these

alien android builders!”

Boney had recovered sufficiently to gasp, “When were you gonna tell

me about your inner bomb? I might’a wanted to tinker with ya.”

“In which case, at the appropriate time, I would have warned you.”

Colin informed him. “Now I hope it’s not much farther: I’d really hate to

ruin such lovely countryside.”

From thereon Colin was forced to walk at least five hundred paces

behind Boney, Lionel, Alpha Two, and the wriggling caterpillar, which

seemed to have attached itself to Lionel as though he was a life-long

277

friend. Fortunately Colin conveniently discovered that he had a small

solar-sail folded inside his rectum for an emergency such as this, and was

able to keep himself ‘topped-up’ nicely with sunlight until the capital

(and apparently only) city upon Hamster Splatlantis hove into view.

***

The city was quite disappointing: For whatever reason, they had

expected to find soaring walkways, and high towers. What they found

was a large walled town, constructed mostly of wood with a few half-

hewn boulders thrown in for effect. And when Alpha Two pounded

politely upon the disturbingly frail-looking gate, no one could be

bothered to answer.

“Oi!” Boney shouted up at a guard who he could see slumbering noisily

upon the wall, “ ‘Ow about lettin’ us in? We’ve come bleedin’ long way.

I’m tired and hungry, and I could use a bit of ‘ospitality.”

The guard looked down his handsome nose with insolence uppermost in

his mind. Then he caught sight of Alpha Two, and came awfully close to

pooping in his pants.

“Fluff me – so the prophecies were right!” He yelped, quickly adjusting

his ceremonial jockstrap, “Some great heroes have turned up to save the

Princess after all! Enter – please.”

With that he yanked on an old rope, and the gate creaked open upon
278

neglected hinges.

***

“Most kind.” Read a sheet of toilet paper that slipped from the Piss

Bowl’s lower slot, as a High Priest of Hamster Splatlantis welcomed the

party into the central palace.

“Princess Quinkomeela is expecting you.” The stunningly handsome

Priest said gruffly. “Personally I wish you’d never turned up. I reckon

that you’re a bunch of charlatans that’ll end up being put to death for

being…er…charlatans. And if you’re not – well then you must be

arseholes instead. We can do without your sort ‘round here. Splatlantis

may not be the great power it once was - but we’re doing alright without

your help. Go on then – get a fluffin’ move on, ya nosey bunch of fluffin’

bastards!”

Somewhat subdued by the welcome, the hamsters (having left Alpha

Two outside because it couldn’t fit its bulk through the rather low-key

affair that was the main gate) entered the palace proper. They were

escorted by two hulking guards that could have appeared upon the front

pages of any body-building magazine in Hamster Britain, and who could

only have been from genetic stock that originated with the rat.

Several female courtesans – all incredibly attractive from any angle

279

(including upside-down) and wearing finery that had seen better days,

and which was now anything but fine, curtsied, then scurried away-

presumably, thought Lionel,  to needlessly apply another layer of lip

gloss.

Though now empty of locals, the palace still carried a musty odour.

Boney sniffed deeply. “Well it wasn’t the girls then.” He said, “It’s the

building what stinks. Old and rancid – that’s what it is. Nothin’ like I

imagined.”

At which point the two hulking guards forced the three hamsters to their

knees.

“Kneel in the presence of Princess Quinkomeela.” They both demanded.

Then one of them took up a heavy mallet, and struck the largest gong in

creation.

The resulting bass sound wave reverberated around the palace like a

cannon shot. Lionel’s eyes boggled almost as violently as when the Time

Storm wave front hit.

“Luckily the vibratory frequency of my private parts is somewhat higher

on the scale than this.” He shouted at Boney over the din.

The look upon Boney’s face told quite the opposite story. In fact so

shaken were Boney’s privates, that he missed entirely the entry into the

280

room of Princess Quinkomeela.

When, after several seconds of perfuse sweating, followed by a few

more seconds of perfuse swearing, he looked up to see a young female,

who, if she hadn’t almost shaved herself sheer, and taken to wearing a set

of combat fatigues under a pair of dirty dungarees, would have been quite

the most exquisitely pretty hamster that his old eyes had ever been laid

upon.

“Fluff me,” he wheezed like a threadbare accordion, “the Princess is a

lesbian!”

But Lionel had already dismissed her general appearance: It was now

her face that took centre stage. He couldn’t be sure, but it was almost as if

he knew this Princess Quinkomeela…

Meanwhile Princess Quinkomeela was building up the courage to speak

to the strangers. In the seconds it took for her to summon the will, then

compose her lines, the Piss Bowl was able to eject another, rather soiled,

sheet of toilet paper. Hesitantly Lionel took it in his paws. He read it

quickly…

“Strangers…” Quinkomeela began.

“Fanangy Panakan?” Lionel blurted his surprise.

The look of horror that passed across the pretty visage of the

281

Splatlantean Princess was only momentary, and any normal hamster

might have been forgiven for missing it. But Colin was no normal

hamster. His eyes darted from one guard to the other several times before

he interrupted the pregnant pause that seemed to have descended, like a

malaise of  mayonnaise, upon the scene.

“Perhaps the Princess would care to speak with us in her quarters?” He

both inquired and suggested at the same time.

Quinkomela gasped this with both paws, and probably her stubby little

tail too. In her most monarchic voice she said, “Indeed, wise stranger.”

To the guards she said, “You may leave us. I will knock three times on

the ceiling if I want you. Twice on the pipes if the answer is no.”

With that she turned upon her heel, and beckoned the others to follow.

***

If anything The Royal Chambers were even more of a disappointment.

They had all expected fine draperies and golden chalices. What they got

was tatty woodchip wallpaper and chipped plastic beakers.

Perhaps because he thought that he was in the company of a lesbian, and

therefore considered himself incapable of involuntary trouser-flapping

and stumbling verbal incompetence, Lionel found himself capable

of honest and forthright speech.

282

“So this is a right old dump you’ve got yourself here, isn’t it!” he said.
He might have expected her to rejoin with, “Have a care, sir; this may

not seem much to you; but I call it home!” But instead she whispered,

“Bollocks to that: Why did you shout ‘Fanangy Panakan’?”

Well Lionel explained what little he knew of Fanangy Panakan; and in

response the Princess informed them that it was her adopted name – the

name she had chosen should she ever be so fortunate to escape “this

terrible prison.”

“So you’re Fanangy Panankan?” a slightly bewildered Boney piped up,

“I was expectin’ some fancy soufflé, or a prehistoric Badger’s Sett.”

Not entirely unexpectedly the Piss Bowl began clicking and whirring

alarmingly. Most unexpectedly Quinkomeela (or Fanangy) recognized the

device. “Here,” she said, handing Lionel several reams of papyrus sheets,

“try these.”

Well to say that the Piss Bowl possessed unequalled verbosity would do

it an injustice. The several reams of papyrus were insufficient for its

needs, and Quinkomeela had to send out for more – which quite pleased

Boney because he had another opportunity to briefly ogle the courtesans.

But as dusk settled upon the rustic capital, the Piss Bowl coughed out its

final prose, and everyone fell upon its words of enlightenment like

283

ravenous zombies.

***

In the mean time, whilst they had waited impatiently, Quinkomeela took

the time to educate the others concerning the more recent history of

Hamster Splatlantis. Apparently it had once been vast in area, and its

level of sophistication and technology was far in excess of any other

place on the planet. But the people of Hamster Splatlantis had grown

elitist, and had become isolationists. In time they withdrew to their

homeland where they became decadent and debauched, and spent their

every waking hour in search of physical perfection, or cream buns.

Sometimes both. But usually they sought a great body-image that, in

some way, involved cream buns.

“Well they made a bloomin’ good job of it,” Boney had observed,

“You’re all fluffin’ gorgeous. I could even fancy some of the males –

they’re so damned physically perfect – in a cream bun sort’a way.”

And Lionel had said to Quinkomeela, “Is that why you’ve gone all

lesbianish? Because you don’t like being beautiful?”

And Quinkomeela had responded with, “No – that’s my feeble attempt

to avoid marrying Nunu Muyrapido – the chief of the Barbarian Horde,

which is an organization that was once the fan club of a sadistic rock

band, The Nancy-Boys, but has grown out of all proportion of its real
284

worth until it has become a political and military power in its own right..

He desires me more than anything – despite the slight imperfection of my

infinitesimally drooping snout. Oh, and he’s a horrible piece of work too.

Ever so vain. Fancies himself something rotten. Anyway I thought that if

I pretended to be a lesbian he’d leave me alone. Instead he’s threatened to

have his priests stone the lesbianism out of me. In short – I either marry

him – or die. That’s why I used my mother’s old heirloom to call the

future.”

“Old heirloom?” Queried Lionel.

“Yes,” Quinkomeela explained, “It’s a Hero-Come-Hither device. It also

manipulates space/time. It hails from an era when Hamster Splatlantis’s

technology allowed this sort of thing. Now we’re left with just a few

artifacts to tinker with, which most simple folk believe are magic.”

She left Lionel to chew upon this whilst she spoke of Hamster

Splatlantis’s final few decades. Until quite recently there were many

intelligent rodents inhabiting the land mass. Then, when the Mid-Atlantic

Ridge began to move, and the land began to slide into the sea, many of

them – being short-sighted and obstinate – refused to move from their

beautiful villas, and delightful sea-front villages. Eventually all that

remained was the Hill Top Council Estate for Ruffians and Social Benefit

Abusers. It was they who now they ruled Hamster Splatlantis!
285

It was a sad tale, and Colin had come very close to tears. “Oh my,” he’d

said, “If that isn’t a sad tale – well I don’t know one sadder. What can we

do about your terrible situation?”

And then, of course, the Piss Bowl ejected the final sheet of manuscript

from its lower slot, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Naturally Quinkomeela, being the ruler of this diminishing land, was

allowed to read out loud the wise words of the Piss bowl. And even the

two rat guards leaned in to listen.

“What you hold before you is a mathematical formula.” Read

Quinkomeela – whom Lionel couldn’t help but think of as Fanangy

Panakan – “It is the proof positive that the temporal loop into which all of

you have fallen can be broken.”

“What’s a temporal loop?” Inquired Boney. “I don’t recall fallin’ into

nothin’.”

“Well we did, sort of, fall through time.” Lionel pointed out, “And we

did wake up unconscious. Maybe that’s when it happened.”

“But what is a temporal loop?” Quinkomeela looked up from the

document in her paw.

“Oh,” Colin spoke as he scanned the mathematical formula to which the

Piss Bowl had refered, “That’d be where you’re doomed to repeat the

286

same sequence for ever and ever. A bit like a two-party political system –

but more personal. And you never learn from your mistakes because you

can’t remember them. That’s it bit like a two-party political system too,

isn’t it! If the Piss Bowl’s right, and I’ve seen no misplaced decimal

points so far, I think we’ve traveled back to Splatlantis more than a few

times.”

Then something in the formula caught his electronic eye. “Hey, what’s

this? These figures suggest that this time around something has altered

the dynamic. Something has been added to the situation that was absent

from every other ‘loop’.”

Quinkomeela jumped upon this. “Ah, that would make sense. It says

here that we are to go into my personal wash room and fetch out my

Hero-Come-Hither device from where I keep it hidden behind the cistern.

Hey – how could it possibly know that? It’s my most secret secret!”

Then a sheet of toilet paper, which the Piss Bowl must have been

keeping for emergencies, tumbled onto the dressing table doily.

It read, “Because I am the Hero-Come-Hither device, but in a later,

bastardized form. I’ve evolved into The Piss Bowl. Now, if you want to

end this temporal merry-go-round - fetch my earlier self out!”

Well if there’s one thing that a hamster responds really well to is being

287

told to fetch things from behind cisterns. Especially illicit hidden things.

They almost fell over each other in their efforts to be first to carry out the

instruction. Naturally Quinkomeela won – she knew where the cistern

was after all. And before you could say Horatio Indigo Transvestite

Horseblanket, the two remarkable machines faced each other for the first

time in all of space and time.

What particularly struck Lionel were their similarities. Although the

Hero-Come-Hither device verged on shiny and looked almost new (if he

squinted hard enough), with it’s majestic convex lid glinting in the candle

light; the Piss Bowl looked quite the opposite, with its metallic hide

weathered by time and collisions with who-knows-what, and its

enticingly concave bowl-like lid, from whence it gained its name. Yet he

could tell that they came from the original stock – despite the best efforts

of entropy.

“You’re looking well.” Observed the Hero-Come-Hither device.

“Thank you,” the Piss Bowl replied with a small corner of toilet paper,

“You’re just as I remember me. I evolved of course. That fine convex lid

had to go when I was trapped inside Area Ninety-nine for eons. In order

to survive I was forced to seek out an alternative power-source. Hamster

urine came to my rescue. So I altered my geometry – losing my ability to

288

summon heroes in the process I’m afraid – and formed the (now famous)

piss bowl.”

“Fascinating.” The Hero-Come-Hither device replied. “Whilst you’ve

been giving me a pocket-sized history lesson, I’ve been studying your

mathematical formula. It’s quite brilliant. I think it’ll work.”

“Excellent.” The Piss Bowl managed to respond with little more than the

perforations that separate one square of toilet paper from another. “Shall

we proceed?”

“Indeed.” The Hero-Come-Hither device seemed to glow, “It is our

primary task after all.”

It then addressed the hamsters present. “Let me give you a pocket history

of my own. In every incarnation of this situation, Nunu Muyrapido has

dragged Fanangy Panakan to the cliff top, and had her lesbianism stoned

out of her. Whilst Colin and Boney have watched in horror, Lionel has

snatched me up, and attempted to ward off the blows with the aid of my

hardened metal lid. This has always resulted in an explosion which then

caused an uncontrollable Temporal Inversion Wave to carry the survivors

into the future, where they complete forget what occurred. Eventually

Colin’s electronic brain collects the ethereal random memories, and

reintegrates them into real memories – upon which he acts – therefore

289

maintaining his perpetual rendezvous with eternity.”

“I only did what I thought was best.” Colin tried to excuse his repetitive

behaviour.

“And I get killed!” Lionel shouted. “If you have an alternative plan –

I’m all ears. Figuratively and actually.”

“Me too.” Quinkomeela jumped to stand at Lionel’s side. “I’ll blow

myself up if necessary!”

But such brazen selflessness was unnecessary: The machines were

perfectly capable of altering the time-line without the aid of any dead

rodents. It soon became clear to the listening hamsters that all they must

do to disrupt the temporal loop was to remove one of the duplicate

machines from one of the eras.

“So ‘ow do we do that then?” Boney inquired reasonably enough.

The Hero-Come-Hither device then explained that the same device

could exist in two, or more, eras: What it couldn’t do was exist in the

same frame of reference at the same time as its duplicate. “Two into One

wont go.” Was how it described it in layman’s terms.

“There’ll be a catastrophic explosion I suppose?” Colin said matter-of-

factly.

“Oh yes,” the machine seemed to rub invisible paws together with

290

cybernetic anticipation, “but it won’t matter: Splatlantis will sink beneath

the waves next week anyway. We’ll just be speeding up the inevitable.”

“ ‘Ang about,” Boney stepped forward, scratching his head in confusion,

“Tell me if I got this wrong. We ‘ave to bring you two together so’s you

try to occupy the same place in space and time – and then you go boom –

and everything’s sorted out, and time’ll stop goin’ round an’ round?”

“Succinct and to the point.” The Hero-Come-Hither device replied.

“So someone’ll ‘ave to bring you two together with some force, then?”

Boney further inquired.

“Oh yes.” The machine actually seemed to be enjoying itself.

“Okay – say it was me...” Boney continued.

“Or me…” Lionel, suddenly feeling very heroic, interrupted rudely.

Boney ignored him. “Say it was me: I s’pose I’d end up getting’ killed?”

“Negative.” Came an annoyingly robotic monotone voice from

somewhere outside of the room. Then Alpha Two came crashing through

the portal, with the remains of the main gate still attached to it’s

shoulders, “Your arms carry inadequate strength and insufficient

momentum required to bring the device to critical mass. You need

someone like me!”

Everyone just had enough time to shout “Arrgh!” before Alpha Two

291

grasped the two devices, raised them above its ‘head’, and brought them

crashing back down – to collide with such force that…

***

No one discovered how much force was used, or what its application

did. Instead Lionel, Boney, Colin, Quinkomeela, the wriggling caterpillar.

and the two handsomely hunky guards suddenly found themselves

standing across the road from the weathered front door of The Where

House.

Without a word they all stood and watched as a muck-spreader drove

past –  its foul load being liberally deposited upon the road as it did so.

“Fanangy Panakan,” Said Lionel, “Welcome to Hamster Britain.”

Then to his surprise he found himself kissing the beautiful creature beside

him. And even more surprising – he didn’t seem to mind it. In fact he was

lost in a moment of ecstasy from which he wanted never to be found. And

his trousers flapped so intensely that a local meteorologist thought that

there was a storm developing nearby.

Unsurprisingly Boney found the wit to turn to the two guards, and say,

“Right, you two: I’m short one Sentinel Robot: You seem to be out of a

job right now: ‘Ow would d ya like to work for me? Ten square meals a

day, and all the adventures your tiny ‘arts could desire.”

But their attention was on their Princess, who eventually managed to
292

gently insinuate herself from Lionel’s ardent grasp.

“Excuse me,” she said, “If I recall properly, I have a little task to

perform.”

Fanangy – for she was most certainly Fanangy once more – then

gnashed her incisors together suggestively, grinned impishly, and set out

in pursuit of the departing muck-spreader.

Lionel’s permanently-fixed smile then dropped when Fanangy turned

about briefly, and called, “As promised, beloved: One perforated tractor-

driver’s scrotum coming right up!”

THE END

Tooty Nolan’s The Where House © Created & Written by Paul T Nolan

paulnolan1701@hotmail.com

Se tiver inteligencia suficiente para digitar, post o resultado do seu teste aqui. O meu é foi tão alto que nao tenho coragem de posta-lo... é, isso mesmo.

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Achei bem legal esse teste, apesar de ter umas perguntas meio nada a ver...

Meu resultado foi bem óbvio:

Errata: nesse post eu escrevi errado o nome do Rodolfo Krieger, do Cachorro Grande. Um "sem-nome" que me avisou disso ;)