Tuesday, August 19, 2014
|Superboy is not a fan of "The Aristocrats".|
The weekend was loathsome. I had a lower back thing, and my right hip was a royal pain. I stayed in Saturday and Sunday, having to use a cane part of the time. Being a guy and all, it takes a lot to make me go to a doctor.
This was a lot.
I requested prayers, and they are appreciated. Part of their result was my having wisdom to Go See Someone. I have not been to a chiropractor in some twenty-five years, and the one I went to was the weird bio-whatsis, manipulating pressure points and putting electrodes on my back to let the ants dance on my muscles. Mind you, it worked, but some of it was a tad New-Agey for my taste.
Not this guy. He is old-school. Jeff Besherse DC at the Ardmore Chiropractic Clinic is my guy, now. I've known him for years, used to attend the same congregation with him and all. He did the obligatory X-Rays, and led me into the therapy room, wherein was...The Table, standing at a steep angle. He had me step on the foot pad, and put my face in the face place. he then lowered the table to actual table position, giving me the feeling of prepping to drive the Christian Bale Batmobile. Then the fun began. he had me face left, then right, while he adjusted my feet (this apparently reveals alignment issues). Then I put my face back in the face groove, and he started...adjusting. The table has hydraulic sections that lift and provide better mechanical advantage for his maneuvering, levering, and cracking. The sensation was intense, somewhat painful briefly, and in the midst of his applying pressure, I started to laugh like crazy. The sensation apparently causes the brain to release endorphins, like a good bout of deep massage does.
Riatsila, I completely understand the trapezius thing, now.
This did not take long, and then he raised the table and had me step off and walk back and forth in the room. I did not limp as I did when I first came in, and I felt...GOOD! He explained what my issues were, and outlined a course of treatment over three weeks. The office visits are not expensive, and from the immediate results, I have no qualms about the treatment.
So, hurrah! I feel better. I printed 150 shirts tonight, and did some mug prints that needed doing. I'm productive again!
Again, thank you for your prayers and concern. Things are looking up!
This is not the exact model, but it will give the idea of the table:
Monday, August 11, 2014
So everyone has heard. Robin Williams, dead by apparent suicide. Facebook has endless posts and reposts of the news. People commenting "I'm crying...". And I am angry.
You see, I suffer from deathlexia. I do not react to death the way other people do. When someone dies, they're gone. Pffft, like that. It is rare that I react emotionally even to a family member's demise. It took fifty years for me to finally grieve over my mother's death. I have instructed the family that it is OK to continue business as usual should I kick the ink bucket. Don't leave the convention just because, unless you REALLY can't handle it. In a perverse twist, I want to keep doing cons, my ashes enshrined in an aardvark-shaped jar. No explanation needed, lest we squeam our customers away....
So I am angry. Angry at all the tears and grief shed for a man none of them knew. A man with a history of alcohol and cocaine abuse and rehab, a history of depression; a walking target for the Reaper. (I am not judg-ing his struggles, merely reporting them.) All the tears for a man with everything: talent, fame, adoring fans...a man who couldn't take it. A man who gave up. I am furious.
I think it likely that if he was medicated for his depression, that Big Pharma may well have some culpability. Angry about that, too, and that he left his family with a bundle of questions like "What more could we have done...?". I've battled Depression, as has the Dread Dormomoo, at the same period of time. Oh, it was a jolly romp! We didn't give in. We didn't off ourselves. We didn't have fame, talent. money, fans....
I'm angry at the fuss. I'm angry that he did it. I'm angry that people did not effectively share the Good News with him...only enough apparently to provide him comedy-fodder (Williams did a dead-on Ernest Angley). I'm angry that religious freaks like Angley exist at all, turning the Faith Once Delivered into a side show. I'm angry that Williams still (perhaps) had good years left, and robbed us of his talent.
So, weep for Robin Williams. Perhaps it is what he would want. Perhaps he would not care at all. Me, I'll be over here, seething.
And thinking about Christian children being beheaded in Iraq by Muslim liberators. Someone needs to remember them.
Saturday, August 09, 2014
The D.D. and I went to town yesterday, and we saw a truck similar to this:
Herself looked at me and said "Body Snatchers".
That's why I love her!
She was in a musing mood as we drove out to The Fish Creel, a landmark seafood place which takes up a measurable percentage of the property in teeny Anderson, AL. We used to go there with her parents, and have not been in nigh unto twenty years. The food was amazingly good. It is under new management, but tastes just the same as years before, even the hushpuppies (with the right amount of onion!) She had fried catfish, and I, a fried shrimp and scallops combo. DEE-lish! The scallops were REAL scallops, too, not punched skate. The staff were excellent, and did not allow our tea glasses to empty. The only downside was Country Crock for my baked potato instead of butter.
So, she was musing, and out plopped this thought:
If racism is thinking your race is the best, then where is the "equality" in feminism?
Doing a non-Svengoolie Saturday night, and we plan to watch Harlock, the live-action movie based upon Leiji Matsumoto's "Captain Harlock" space pirate character. May do a reviewlet.
Must set up a new Brother all-in-one color printer/scanner-mo-tron. Because Kodak bites.
Tatty-bye for now!
The Dread Dormomoo and I did the unthinkable: we went to see a movie on a weeknight. I have never seen a Godzilla movie on the big screen, so we went to our (almost) local Carmike theater, where it was showing for $1.50. So, we both saw the movie, had popcorn and drinks for less than the price of regular tickets. This pleased my Scots soul.
We endured the endless adverts and admonitions to mute our cellular phones, saw the mildly diverting previews (in all of the face shots of "Hercules", Dwayne Johnson looks JUST LIKE Kevin Sorbo).
Enter the 'Zilla. First off, I must say that I enjoyed the movie. The problem is, it did not have the feel of a Godzilla movie. The difference is almost tactile. Being an American production, it is too polished, really, too expansive, which may seem an odd complaint for a giant monster movie. I went to see Bryan Cranston, and was not disappointed. His role as a nuclear engineer whose wife dies in a meltdown of Unspecified Origin was well done, and the long shot showing the complete collapse of the reactor facility is as believable as it is horrifying. Cranston's movie son comes as close to a classic Godzilla suit-monster performance as we will see here, or perhaps a Gerry Anderson marionette series.
My biggest issue with the movie is the lack of on-screen destruction. We are treated instead to a series of faits accompli, the camera panning past a foreground building to see a trail of destruction. During the Big Finale, we DO get to see some "throw him through the building-fu", but the uncanny valley is uncanny. The FEEL of the effects is wrong. You get none of the dust and crunch of the rubber-suit monster crashing through a well-built scale model building. Heavy on the Fuller's Earth, please! Now, it's just pixels, and it translates that way.
To resurrect a personal meme, this was a good action movie. It was not a good Godzilla movie. I hear a new one is in the works with Mothra, Rodan, and Kaiser Ghidorah. I'll wait for the $1.50 theater.
Also, there was no apparent attempt to insert music cues from Akira Ifukube, who started the Godzilla music sixty years ago. This smacks of disrespect, although I am sure it was the film-makers' attempt to "make it their own".
America, stop trying to make Japanese monster movies.