Inkscape 0.92

Recently Inkscape released an updated version–0.92–with couple new key features. Previously Inkscape only had 5 layer blend modes–Normal, Lighten, Darken, Screen and Multiply–which while useful, paled in comparison to Adobe’s Illustrator wide slew of layer blend modes. But with 0.92, that was all changed. Instead of explaining it with words, let’s go through some pictures, shall we?

First, the original 4:



The new and improved selection:

While not every filter will be appropriate in every picture, this increased selection makes an already easy to use, powerful program even more versatile in creating art–did I forget to mention it is also free and has an extensive undo button? (Fyi, Illustrator lacks both of these features) Shade aside, I’m really looking forward to all the new cool ideas I will be able to explore with the improved version of Inkscape–2017 might be an okay year after all.

I Just Sip My Tea

Click for bigger version


The trolls be strollin in

emperor clothed they unashamed

Like clouds they be rollin in wind,

thundering like lightning they came

Controversy reeks of disaster

So above like vultures, they glide

Seeking whom they can scour

Simmering, seething in snide

Coming plain, they moan moo with beef

Bulls be brazen, threading in strife stroll

Tis a field, a forum for a foe to be fought

So crying charge, consternation claim control

Words will why, souls will wither

Weather will warp, Woes will wend

For ones simple beyond and abroad

Will weigh whacked, as twits will trend

We weep for Grandma Grammar

See her grave here down below,

see english beautiful butchered,

smh tldr, tmi lmafo lol

Collateral conjectural, who dies matters not here

Cultural contextual, for what was, now lies shot

Cogency calamity, shout louder, inspire fear

Complainers maintain, spew as thou aught  


For this means SORE!



Do you hear that din descending?

Can you feel that impending hum

The trolls beat the war chant

In droves soon tweets will come

For whom, well the trolls

Thumb flexin, tweet vexin, care not

Kermit shaded, inspired in ire

Any target found will be outfought

Ready the canon

Blare loud every horn

Retcon all truth

Demise any who scorn

Bells rung, to ships all called

Correlate toward sober causation

Held hands they sort of once

So stand firm on our citation

Rumors fly, yet we bind them down

Murmurs whisper, amplify their sound

Leaked, mined, there data renown

On the hype train, let us all bound!

TLDR: there, no surprise

I must surmise rows of lines

As length denizens despise

So YOLO XD potatoes vines!


Dear Writing . . .



Dear Writing,

      Sorry, So so sorry, it’s me, not you but lately, I’ve been busy, maybe too busy. Or lazy, yep that’s probably it. Lazy. But I’m back–I’m trying to, at least–hey give me some credit. It’s hard these days, you know–I got a job, adult responsibilities, articles to read, old writings to review, the past to reminisce about–like remember when we had so much time and I had so much energy, that I would just write everything and anything, the only thing stopping me was that I was tired, or really had to go to the bathroom, or there were way too many words with red jagged underlines?

Yep, those were the days, those were . . . But now, now dreary old now, I so live for the weekend, as the week, ugh don’t remind me! Yet the good thing is that it does fly fast–before you know it, it’s Friday, yay! Friday night is seriously the best because I can work on art–oh whoops, I forgot, yeah, how to say it . .  .so yeah  . . I’ve been hanging out with art a lot more these days, uh sorry. Art is so vibrant, with all the colors you can throw on the screen, and all those lines and curves I can manipulate into form. The stories I can tell are endless–not to say, I can’t tell stories with you as well, Writing.  But it is so hard sometimes to get started–your great blank white pages stare at me and I shiver, oh I shiver and sometimes  all I want to do is curl up into a ball and play my 3DS. Yeah, you’re right–art has white pages as well. But you see there, I can quickly change that with  a nice bland pastel rectangular background. With a couple odd shapes, though awkwardly arranged into a blocky form, already I can see in my creative eye the beginnings of a masterpiece.

But with you, Writing, 5 minutes in, and that measly sentence or two, lonely floating in a  sea of white, silently heckling me as in my head, a million thoughts racing are showing me all the things I could be doing now, and I just can’t think of the next thing I want to say. So 30 minutes, later when a teenager of a paragraph stares up at me, red lines like warts blinking everywhere, half-thought-out sentences with ands, other conjunctions streaming along a pile of miserably incoherent tangents meandering through a prose so magenta even Prince would be scared to wear it, I just simply don’t know–I don’t know it I care enough to wade through it , and clean up those sentences in bad need of liposuction, a diet (NOT A SEE FOOD DIET), and exercise–or even if I care enough to continue on with this train of thought, whose engine of an idea was so bright and friendly like Thomas until we started up that hill–many axles were more that scuffed in the climb. Yet at the top, all I could see was the upcoming mountain and, uh, uh I just couldn’t, just couldn’t anymore–Facebook break.

Whoops, that was a long time, a lot of cats, though. Anyway, where was I? Ah, the real reason why I wrote this. Um, erm, so, eh, last month October, the 10th month, even though in Latin it literally means the eighth month–but I digress, to save me more time, uh, please. So in October, there is this thing called Inktober you may have heard about. It is about drawing every single day in ink and posting it. So the good news–yay, good news–is that I was able to do that, even some of my post were kind of late, give a day/weeks or something like that. But, erm, the bad news. So this month is November, the 11th–okay, I’ll get to my point. In November, there is NaNoWriMo in which you are supposed to write 50,000 words. While not exactly doing that, in the vein of it I had hoped to write some stuff with you Writing this November but as they say, “Hopes are fickle things like butterflies who as they flit often fly in front of lit flamethrowers.” Naive butterflies fried. But anyways, I have a concession–letters. Together we can write letters to many different things–projects that need cheering up, poems that need to be written, art that is still struggling to get itself together. These letters could be fun  just like this one was. And with that, Writing, dear old friend, I am sorry about this month but don’t hold it against me, I’m a busy lazy man but I’ll make sure to hang with you more often.


Until the next  keystroke and cursive letter,

Lelantos Lynx        

Have a Cup




Have a cup will you, that would be swell

beyond these trees rage the hounding fell

Monday mundane moans and mopes

Deadlines damning detain dear hopes


So grab a jug and gulp it down

Caffeine your guide austere and brown

Empowering the faint their demons to face

Enervating the sluggish, granting pace

Promptly pick between its flavors two

Delight’s tea or coffee’s darker brew

Caffeine employed, danger you’ll abide

Monsters muted, your demons defied

Party partly, pinkies high dear hatter

Denying elevenses would be madder

So my greyed earl be at liberty

harbored in Boston, there floaty

Or instant, two sugars please, King Dun

Roast and grind, Bucking star, my son

Cream the stress expressly by the pot

Percolate black, my heart, as thou aught

So Mondays moan, pardon me while I sip

Adenosine antagonized, a mug I grip

Stroll with Camellia robustly your own

Have a cup, It is dangerous to go alone