Unlike my last review, I have a good feeling they will actually see what I'm saying about them, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. Depending on how well they take scathing vicious criticism.
The first thing I see is his journal, typically, I go for userinfo first to get an idea of the person before I take a gander at what they're rambling on about. All I can say about this is that it's unique. Not neccesarily in a good way, but not that bad either. The color scheme i'm going to assume is OK(my monitor blew out and so while I'm building up the energy to grab my receipt and exchange it since it's still under warranty, I'm using an old one that doesn't have a working blue), and the fact that it's not a typical livejournal layout at first is intriguing.
However, it pisses me off. You like obscure words. I know the meaning of most of them, if I don't, I'm good enough at guessing by semantics and word usage to figure out what it means. That annoys me. Words become archaic for a reason, 17th-Century-Man, because nobody wants to use them. People don't want to use a word with more syllables than they need for the sake of wear and tear on their tongue and vocal chords, they'd rather use a word like "last" rather than "bygone" or "next" rather than "vernal".
What else pisses me off about this setup? I want to check your userinfo to read your bio and look at your interests(haven't looked at it yet, but I'm takin a stab at it and saying I'll find D&D in there), but I have to check my status bar to see the URL to figure out with one goes to the userinfo.
By the time I find your userinfo(a mere 5 or 6 seconds, not including page loading times), I'm already angered and biased, but let's take a look anyway. You're a jester? Nice, you're the guy the king has drawn and quartered when he stubs a toe. I hope you're funny, or really stupid, cause no one really wants to be a jester. You're expendable, do yourself a favor, grab a harp and become a bard.
I also find a couple images in here. A movie-esque journal rating, that's so 2001 it's disturbing. Also, you're 205% evil. Now this pisses me off. You cannot go beyond 100% unless you're talking about change from a previous condition. So unless you've increased your evil factor by 105% since the last time it was measured, this is a grievous mathematical bastardization.
Now, I read the rest of your bio. You really, really like fantasy it seems. Not a bad thing, but one little thing sticks out and bugs me.
Please be aware that the Verbal Jester has a mind like a HEPPA filter - it traps all sorts of small, inconsequential dross (hence the Ten-Thousand Random Interests), but can't hold on to the big stuff. So if the Jester appears to miss the point, please go back and explain it to him. Slowly. Carefully. Using small words. Remember "the elderly are like children" (Radiohead - Pets).
Using small words, huh? Guess you went and found a thesaurus to get your bio, cause that's a bunch of archaic words that you'd need quite a vocabulary, or a thesaurus, to know. After reading the bio I figured you were probably pretty intelligent, but this throws me off. I don't like being thrown off. I haven't even read your journal yet and I already don't like you at all.
Let's go back to the journal.
You had a dream. I picked a good time to review your journal, let's take a gander into your psyche. It's a dream about the computers taking over the world. I won't say much on that because I have my own theories on sentient species inevitably being taken over by their own technology, and when two species meet in space, it is always the machines and never the organisms that created them. Moving on. All the rebels that were your friends in this were people off LJ. I'm guessing you don't know their real names, live in a cellar(perhaps your own, maybe you didn't want the typical i-live-in-my-parents-basement persona, so you got a small house with a damp, dark cellar). You probably don't get out much if your dreaming about your friends from the internet.
I read about half way through and got pissed off by the intense Hollywood cliches. I don't know how it ended and I don't want to know how it ended. Back to the land of wind and ghosts. I mean your journal. Sorry.
The faces you use for your current mood bug me. I'm really having trouble guessing your gender at this point. I'm going to call you Asexual Sam.
I read down a bit more, somethin about email on the radio, then telling me to toddle over somewhere(tell me to toddle again and I'll make you hobble off yonder to a hospital).
I can't read any more, I can feel my skin getting paler and my complexion getting worse as I go on. Pretty soon I'll be snorting and pushing up glasses while I correct people on the actual armaments of your typical Klingon battlecruiser or debating whether a stereotypical fantasy dwarf could beat a stereotypical fantasy elf.
You seem to be intelligent enough, which always pleases me. The fact that you're a little too into fantasy and science fiction doesn't bug me a bit, but your choice of archaic words, interest in music, and sickeningly vague gender just piss me off.