BrainedBySaucepans

Send me your audition!

Coming soon to Canterlot.com Aubrey Jean - The Animated Series

This. So much. Hans Zimmer is a genius, and the Inception soundtrack is a friggin masterpiece. Not just cos it sounds great, but for because... Now that's truly using every tool available to enhance the narrative..

I made the same promise... then I spotted the render error in my piece. *breaks down in quiet manly tears* In all seriousness though, congratulations to the happy couple. I wish you both all the best.

...and now the blasted creature had noticed him. Right now, Ashen just wanted to wallow in his own misery, but there was no polite way of doing so if his former student… what was his name again… chose to initiate a conversation. Don’t be silly, most of my former students would rather go toe to toe with a manticore than try and pass time talking to me. Damnable dullards, the lot of them; not an iota of passion for discussion in the entire student body. He’ll probably just turn right back around and pretend- “Professor Smirk! Finally, somepony to share my wretchedness with!” The buffon actually laughed at his own attempt at humour before continuing. “How have your classes gone since I’ve graduated from CU? What are you doing way out here in Ponyville, anyway?” Well this was certainly novel. A former student was trying to engage him in small talk. In the old days, he would have fired off some withering put-down, or just stared at the impertinent fool until he either tried to say something of substance or quietly slunk away. But now… Don’t confront! Evade! Be personable. Happy. A People Pony. “Clearly you haven’t been keeping up with news from the alma mater, young…” He struggled in vain to recall a name, before giving up, rather pathetically. “…pony. I’m afraid I recently resigned my position in favour of a post in Stalliongrad. Even the vaults of the Canterlot archive are not without end, and I felt it time for a change of scenery. Besides it doesn’t do to lock oneself up in the high towers of academia. That sort of thing leads to circular thinking and solipsism, and I’ve heard that you indulge in that sort of thing at risk of going blind.” The smile widened painfully for a fraction of a second as the Professor internalised a wince. I just tried to make a joke. What is wrong with me? “Well, that’s what brought me here anyway. I’m walking all the way, taking in the fresh country air and meeting some of the most inbr- fascinating people. I plan to go the long way you know, perhaps even a detour via Aquellia to get a Griffonic perspective on the founding of Equestria. I’m quite sure they have unique records of those events, but up to now, scholars have generally disregarded them as not worth study. The arrogance beggars belief! That’s why I’m here you see; I wanted to pick up some supplies for my journey, and I heard that there was an orchard in these parts renowned for the quality of it’s produce…” As his mouth worked away franticly, Ashen’s brain idled and observed a hitherto unseen phenomenon. I’m babbling like a brook! Is this what ponies mean by the phrase “gibbering idiot”? “… and that’s what brings me here. For the apples. To eat. What about yourself? How have you been occupying yourself since graduation, young… stallion?” If being friendly and affable means having to remember the names of students I’ll be a recluse by sundown.

That's just how I dress...

Hmm. I hadn't thought of it like that. Up to now, my definition of "furry" was pretty much: "people who like to dress up in fursuits". I clearly need to make some revisions...

Right, I'll be there. I need some variety in my life right now, and meeting new people is always fun. Besides I've never actually met any furries before (at least not to my knowledge, it's not a question I routinely ask people) and I'm keen to form my own opinions of the subculture. Right now my only knowledge comes from the dark recesses of the internet, and most of that is slanderous and unsuitable for discussion on civilised fora. Don't worry, I'm not easily swayed by such things; in my opinion, any group managing to attract such a large amount of disdain must be doing something right... As for the whole journalism thing, the only publication I currently write for is my blog, which never gets updated or, for that matter, read. I may end up writing a post about it, but only if people at the meet seem okay with me doing that (even then probably not; I'm congenitally lazy and easily distracted ). See you there! I'll be the bemused looking chap in the three-piece suit and cravat.

Looks intriguing. I shall endeavour to be there, but I do have a couple of questions. No start time is mentioned, so I was wondering what time I should arrive. Disregard this, I've looked through the site a bit more and found the times (12-7 if anyone else is interested). They really should be on the front page... Also, I'm technically a member of the National Union of Journalists; does this mean I'm not welcome?

Sounds interesting. Could you link me to the details?

What's LFM? (That should answer your question...)

I knew there was a reason I felt at home here...

Glad to see someone else actually likes rain. Sadly, London's been without major precipitation for a while. Bring on Autumn! Regarding Big Brother, the average Brit is seen by around 70 cameras every day. Our fair country has (I have heard, though I couldn't find the relevant statistics) the highest number of security cameras per person in the world.

I'm a lifelong Londoner, and vaguely proud of the fact... Incidentally, is anyone else here going to the London MCM Expo at the end of October? EDIT: Just spotted this on the front page; some good advice there for those who are thinking about MCM, especially if you haven't been to any conventions/expos before.

A carefree figure strolled down the Canterlot road toward Sweet Apple Acres, bulging saddlebags slung across his back, and a pipe clenched firmly in the teeth of a wide grin. He had an ash-grey coat, and on his flank was an apple of shining gold. A spectrum of multi-coloured bubbles emerged from the bowl of the pipe at erratic intervals, drifting up in to the sky in a lazy progression reminiscent of that of their progenitor. Professor Ashen Smirk, formerly of Canterlot University, was in a foul mood. His self-imposed exile had barely begun, and already he was unsure whether leaving his adopted hometown had been the right path for him. Before his departure, there had been no doubt in his mind. The glittering spires which once seemed so defiant and full of promise had become the bars of a gilded cage. The archives themselves, his source of intellectual nourishment, now seemed to mock him. His last visit had been a harrowing one; leafing through the volumes of the tomes from which he had formulated his philosophy, he could find no inspiration. Instead, they seemed to mock the very concepts that had seemed so self-evident before… Now, distance had changed his perspective. He realised just how much Canterlot had become home to him. Not just a collection of buildings and faces, but a way of thinking, of living. He had spent the entirety of his academic life within its protective cocoon, but now, seen from the outside, it was amazing how the place exuded a sense of certainty and optimism. Perhaps there’s enough material for a paper in this: “How the minds that shape Equestria are shaped by its capital”? Title needs work, but there’s bound to be plenty of sources I can draw from. After all, one of the main traits of Canterlot academics is a tendency to produce scholarly documents so self-absorbed you’d think the rest of the world didn’t exist… His thoughts trailed off, and his constant smile was cranked wider by several millimetres. A bitter laugh escaped as he acknowledged the just how firmly the pattern of his thoughts demonstrated the truth of his observations. I’m certainly not immune. I was right to leave. His hooves had brought him to an apple orchard, and it occurred to him that apples would serve him well on the long journey ahead of him. He registered the long queue, and automatically took his place at the end of it, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to think too much about anything else. He wasn’t in a hurry. Canterlot is a mental prison, and the sooner I escape the better. I was even beginning to miss students. He shuddered slightly at this thought, but once he regained his composure it began to dawn on him that his thought about students hadn’t come entirely out of nowhere. In fact, the red coated, rather undernourished looking stallion in front of him looked vaguely familiar…

But I interact with so many people on here, isn't it better to get to know people as you go along?

Seems to me what you want is a script editor, not a writer. If that's the case I may be up for it... if you're still looking for one in a week or so, that is.