"I'm not sure it's a dance, but damned if I can think of a better word."

-----------------------

I think the word you are looking for is seduction. And the orb is music.

"When you're happy, you enjoy the music. But, when you're sad, you understand the lyrics."

Awesome graphics... but all I can keep seeing is that her "torch light" magic is being held in the wrong spot. When she has the glowing orb infront of her, all she is doing is ruining her night sight. It should of been held above and behind her... but I guess I'm just a stickler *shrug*

OK. Imagine a giant glowing ball of fire suddenly appears floating, unmoving in the sky. The sky itself changes from the normal grey to a weird alien blue. The brightness burns your eyes. The heat thrown off by the orb compels madness - previously normal people start inexplicably removing layers upon layers of clothing.

It's happened here in Ireland, and it could happen to you too. Unless you're in Glasgow.

Your video, Swimming in a pool of 25 million water orbs, has made it into the Top 15 New Videos listing. Congratulations on your achievement. For your contribution you have been awarded 1 Power Point.

Swimming in a pool of 25 million water orbs has been added as a related post - related requested by Mordhaus on that post.

Yo, fuck those Golden Orb Spiders! We don't have them here in the US, but we do have these huge Argiope spiders -- commonly called Orb Web Spiders -- and the damned things are both huge and easily walked into at face height. Despite being allegedly 'docile', the only time I've been bitten by a spider (twice) is by one of those bastards. So yeah, those bastards are born free: free to go fuck themselves!

Comment hidden because you are ignoring dag. (show it anyway)

Huntsmen are lovely little fellows - it's the golden orb spiders that eek me out.

I'm surprised about the Guardians of the Galaxy one. When Pratt dropped the orb, it actually sort of irked me how canny it looked. Guess I was wrong.

The Star Wars one I remember from when I was a kid, and my friends and I argued about whether Luke was saying "Carrie" or "Hey" and even with the modern intertube instant replay magic, I still can't call it myself one way or the other.

It will all be mine... MINE... the pitiful occupants of this miniscule blue orb we KNEEL before me...

Soon...

Yes... very soon...

Eärendil was a mariner
that tarried in Arvernien;
he built a boat of timber felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in;
her sails he wove of silver fair,
of silver were her lanterns made,
her prow was fashioned like a swan,
and light upon her banners laid.

In panoply of ancient kings,
in chainéd rings he armoured him;
his shining shield was scored with runes
to ward all wounds and harm from him;
his bow was made of dragon-horn,
his arrows shorn of ebony,
of silver was his habergeon,
his scabbard of chalcedony;
his sword of steel was valiant,
of adamant his helmet tall,
an eagle-plume upon his crest,
upon his breast an emerald.

Beneath the Moon and under star
he wandered far from northern strands,
bewildered on enchanted ways
beyond the days of mortal lands.
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
where shadow lies on frozen hills,
from nether heats and burning waste
he turned in haste, and roving still
on starless waters far astray
at last he came to Night of Naught,
and passed, and never sight he saw
of shining shore nor light he sought.
The winds of wrath came driving him,
and blindly in the foam he fled
from west to east and errandless,
unheralded he homeward sped.

There flying Elwing came to him,
and flame was in the darkness lit;
more bright than light of diamond
the fire upon her carcanet.
The Silmaril she bound on him
and crowned him with the living light
and dauntless then with burning brow
he turned his prow; and in the night
from Otherworld beyond the Sea
there strong and free a storm arose,
a wind of power in Tarmenel;
by paths that seldom mortal goes
his boat it bore with biting breath
as might of death across the grey
and long-forsaken seas distressed:
from east to west he passed away.

Through Evernight he back was borne
on black and roaring waves that ran
o'er leagues unlit and foundered shores
that drowned before the Days began,
until he heard on strands of pearl
where ends the world the music long,
where ever-foaming billows roll
the yellow gold and jewels wan.
He saw the Mountain silent rise
where twilight lies upon the knees
of Valinor, and Eldamar
beheld afar beyond the seas.
A wanderer escaped from night
to haven white he came at last,
to Elvenhome the green and fair
where keen the air, where pale as glass
beneath the Hill of Ilmarin
a-glimmer in a valley sheer
the lamplit towers of Tirion
are mirrored on the Shadowmere.

He tarried there from errantry,
and melodies they taught to him,
and sages old him marvels told,
and harps of gold they brought to him.
They clothed him then in elven-white,
and seven lights before him sent,
as through the Calacirian
to hidden land forlorn he went.
He came unto the timeless halls
where shining fall the countless years,
and endless reigns the Elder King
in Ilmarin on Mountain sheer;
and words unheard were spoken then
of folk of Men and Elven-kin,
beyond the world were visions showed
forbid to those that dwell therein.

A ship then new they built for him
of mithril and of elven-glass
with shining prow; no shaven oar
nor sail she bore on silver mast:
the Silmaril as lantern light
and banner bright with living flame
to gleam thereon by Elbereth
herself was set, who thither came
and wings immortal made for him,
and laid on him undying doom,
to sail the shoreless skies and come
behind the Sun and light of Moon.

From Evereven's lofty hills
where softly silver fountains fall
his wings him bore, a wandering light,
beyond the mighty Mountain Wall.
From World's End then he turned away,
and yearned again to find afar
his home through shadow journeying,
and burning as an island star
on high above the mists he came,
a distant flame before the Sun,
a wonder ere the waking dawn
where grey the Norland waters run.

And over Middle-earth he passed
and heard at last the weeping sore
of women and of elven-maids
in Elder Days, in years of yore.
But on him mighty doom was laid,
till Moon should fade, an orbéd star
to pass, and tarry never more
on Hither Shores where mortals are;
for ever still a herald on
an errand that should never rest
to bear his shining lamp afar,
the Flammifer of Westernesse.

Congratulations! Your video, The Mysterious Floating Orb by Weird Al, has reached the #1 spot in the current Top 15 New Videos listing. This is a very difficult thing to accomplish but you managed to pull it off. For your contribution you have been awarded 2 Power Points.

This achievement has earned you your "Golden One" Level 15 Badge!

Your video, The Mysterious Floating Orb by Weird Al, has made it into the Top 15 New Videos listing. Congratulations on your achievement. For your contribution you have been awarded 1 Power Point.

Pinky and the Brain thought of it first:

"We shall fire a rocket carrying billions of tiny self-adhesive mirrors at the moon. Upon detonation, the mirrors will cover the entire surface of the orb, thus creating a GIGANTIC DISCO BALL."

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x7fd00_15-b-pinkasso_shortfilms

Typing as one of the New Kids On The Sift perhaps I shall have officially earned my stripes by the 10th. Thank you for helping me weather the roughest patch in my life on this fragile orb. Videosift has become my daily touchstone to sanity [uhoh]

DOOM ORB IS A REALITY!