You want fries with this catchup?
OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse from 3/22/2006, 38 of 50.
Ah, I've been entirely too deep and thematic lately. Time to answer a handful of completely pointless questions that have nothing to do with each other!
What is the best present you have ever given someone else?
Hard to say. I have been known to give out some seriously nice presents, if I do say so myself. Usually no one's grateful, so I suppose the best presents would have to be the ones that I actually got a little gratitude for. Among the better ones were the time I gave Data the experience of laughter, as a reward for saving my life, and the time I gave Tanith Estar her freedom, the freedom of all the other enslaved female dissidents on her homeworld, and a whole planet to play with. What can I say? She was impressive. Slaves with grandiose plans for changing the world demonstrate such a delightful arrogance, I had to let her see if she could create the female utopia she thought she could. Turns out, of course, she couldn't, but at least her planet runs better than the one I took her from.
What is your favorite thing to do to relax?
Wander around the universe looking for something novel enough to entertain me.
What do you think when you look in the mirror?
I don't, much. There are no mirrors in the Continuum -- we don't use visual light to see by, and we really don't have any reliable way to see ourselves. And if I want to look at a mortal body I've taken the form of, I can just do it, I don't need a mirror.
But oh, I'm sure the question is trying to be metaphorical. What do I see when I visualize myself? Once upon a time -- a very, very long time ago -- I used to see an intrepid explorer. And then a carefree, witty fellow who was just out to have fun. And then an outcast, a misfit, a much-put-upon whipping boy for the entire Continuum. Now... I have no idea. I'm a rebel who's been co-opted by the establishment in the process of creating his utopia, a father in a society that's never had individualized parents, and somewhere inside deep down there's still all the other selves, the explorer, the fun-loving guy, the outcast. I think I get less certain of my identity as the centuries wear on... which is probably bad. Loss of identity is the Q equivalent of death. Maybe I'm going senile. Or maybe my passion for change and the new means I'll never be the same person over any extended period of time. I suspect I like it better that way, actually. Who wants to be predictable?
What is the greatest sacrifice you've made for love?
If you're talking about romantic love, I can say pretty definitely that I have never sacrificed anything at all for love, and probably never will.
I do love my son, though, and I've made a lot of sacrifices for him -- okay, baby Q don't have diapers to change, but they do run around the universe causing incredible chaos and disruption and need to be constantly watched over. I've lost a lot of time I could have spent having fun, a lot of time I could have spent trying to reshape my culture, and, frankly, I've frequently been bored out of my mind.
If you could take back one thing you said in anger, what would it be and why?
I can't be bothered taking back anything I said. The things I did in anger, now, that's a different story. But anyone who knows me has to know that my relationship with mortal language and communication is, shall we say, not exactly the dedicated, monogamously honest marriage most people think their relationship with their own words should be. In other words, I should hope that no one who knows me well enough that I care about their opinion actually takes anything I say very seriously.
Write about your father.
I don't have a father. I have an entire Continuum. This has made it very, very difficult to manage the task of being a father myself. I was created as an adolescent; how does one teach a child? Discipline him? Strike a balance between helping him and letting him find his own way? All I know is what the Continuum did to me when they wanted to shape my behavior, and I know that firstly it didn't usually work, and secondly, I wasn't a child at the time (and thirdly, I'm not sure I can bring myself to be quite that cruel to him.)
Ah, I've been entirely too deep and thematic lately. Time to answer a handful of completely pointless questions that have nothing to do with each other!
What is the best present you have ever given someone else?
Hard to say. I have been known to give out some seriously nice presents, if I do say so myself. Usually no one's grateful, so I suppose the best presents would have to be the ones that I actually got a little gratitude for. Among the better ones were the time I gave Data the experience of laughter, as a reward for saving my life, and the time I gave Tanith Estar her freedom, the freedom of all the other enslaved female dissidents on her homeworld, and a whole planet to play with. What can I say? She was impressive. Slaves with grandiose plans for changing the world demonstrate such a delightful arrogance, I had to let her see if she could create the female utopia she thought she could. Turns out, of course, she couldn't, but at least her planet runs better than the one I took her from.
What is your favorite thing to do to relax?
Wander around the universe looking for something novel enough to entertain me.
What do you think when you look in the mirror?
I don't, much. There are no mirrors in the Continuum -- we don't use visual light to see by, and we really don't have any reliable way to see ourselves. And if I want to look at a mortal body I've taken the form of, I can just do it, I don't need a mirror.
But oh, I'm sure the question is trying to be metaphorical. What do I see when I visualize myself? Once upon a time -- a very, very long time ago -- I used to see an intrepid explorer. And then a carefree, witty fellow who was just out to have fun. And then an outcast, a misfit, a much-put-upon whipping boy for the entire Continuum. Now... I have no idea. I'm a rebel who's been co-opted by the establishment in the process of creating his utopia, a father in a society that's never had individualized parents, and somewhere inside deep down there's still all the other selves, the explorer, the fun-loving guy, the outcast. I think I get less certain of my identity as the centuries wear on... which is probably bad. Loss of identity is the Q equivalent of death. Maybe I'm going senile. Or maybe my passion for change and the new means I'll never be the same person over any extended period of time. I suspect I like it better that way, actually. Who wants to be predictable?
What is the greatest sacrifice you've made for love?
If you're talking about romantic love, I can say pretty definitely that I have never sacrificed anything at all for love, and probably never will.
I do love my son, though, and I've made a lot of sacrifices for him -- okay, baby Q don't have diapers to change, but they do run around the universe causing incredible chaos and disruption and need to be constantly watched over. I've lost a lot of time I could have spent having fun, a lot of time I could have spent trying to reshape my culture, and, frankly, I've frequently been bored out of my mind.
If you could take back one thing you said in anger, what would it be and why?
I can't be bothered taking back anything I said. The things I did in anger, now, that's a different story. But anyone who knows me has to know that my relationship with mortal language and communication is, shall we say, not exactly the dedicated, monogamously honest marriage most people think their relationship with their own words should be. In other words, I should hope that no one who knows me well enough that I care about their opinion actually takes anything I say very seriously.
Write about your father.
I don't have a father. I have an entire Continuum. This has made it very, very difficult to manage the task of being a father myself. I was created as an adolescent; how does one teach a child? Discipline him? Strike a balance between helping him and letting him find his own way? All I know is what the Continuum did to me when they wanted to shape my behavior, and I know that firstly it didn't usually work, and secondly, I wasn't a child at the time (and thirdly, I'm not sure I can bring myself to be quite that cruel to him.)