Well, okay, I went to see Serenity with Mr. McLeod at Regal Cinemas. You know; the one behind the Mall. Went in to get our tickets at the concession stand, where the Simpsons Teenaged Kid received our shekels, and his female counterpart, the one with the CANDY NECKLACE around her neck (O, please, dear Father, let it be plastic...) and a grin like Nicholson's Joker hit us up to join the Regal Crown Club. "You get double points on Fridays, and we don't make you sit in the sticky section." We demurred.

Got to the correct shoebox, shoehorned ourselves into our comfy stadium seating- why does your elbow fit so well into the cupholder?- and watched the Exceedingly Entertaining Slideshow. I mean, shoot, our country CHURCH has Powerpoint! Then the Trailers began...wait...it's the COMMERCIALS-The same ones we see at home, except that you can enjoy every blemish on the actors' phizzes. And why are they over there, partway on the curtains?

Hmmmmm...

The Trailers began. Over there. When I pay to see commercials and trailers, I want them over HERE, centred on the screen. Large fanboys are getting up to look for the manager. The anamorphic lens that s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-s the image into widescreen format is not in place. The actresses look more anorexic than usual. This happens all the time, though...these guys are professionals...it'll be fine.
AH! The Universal logo appears, with the attendant swelling "Hercules" type music.
It's not widescreen.
The Earth is tall and thin.
So THIS is what they mean about the Earth being all used up...

They get the movie centred. That's something.
The Serenity looks odd. Squashy somehow. Kaylee had a chibi moment, but got it wrong.
I get up to look for the manager. I find the engineer, and ask if they plan to use the anamorphic lens. He burbles that neither setting is working right, and that the anamorphic seems to be broken...the image doesn't fit the mask, or summat...The upshot being that they opted to show the movie in "squash 'n' stretch" mode, whilst whistling, scuffing their toes in the sand and hoping that no-one noticed.

Mr. McLeod and I opted to walk. The teenager refunded our money, commenting "I'm surprised you lasted that long.".

I can hardly wait to see Serenity.

Tweens with delusions of literacy often adopt an affectation in their writing: the use of British variant spelling. You know:
humour for humor
realise for realize
gaol for jail (I'm the only one I know that does...DID, did...that one)
and...like that.

It is certainly an affectation, much like choosing to wear metres-long multi-coloured scarves out in public. (Hey, that fits TWO fan groups, now!)

Back in the day (the current nostalgia cliche du jour) whilst I was still in college, another affectation was very, VERY george -or "shiny" for you brown jackets- amongst the charismaniacs, primarily: using Hebraic spellings and terminology, like
Yeshua for Jesus.
That, and listening to Messianic Jewish songsters like "LAMB", and groovin' to the holy beats of Amy Grant's "El Shaddai".

Man, Jewish was BOSS!

But, y'know, I'm not Jewish. I don't like gefilte fish. I don't wear a yarmulke.
I'm not a Brit, either. I don't dig socialiZed medicine, and my teeth aren't grey.

Some things are FUN. Other things get in the way, 'cos people just think you're weird.
Don't ask me how I know that...

May-bee we should work on not making our job more difficult!

I Like Ike...not very much anymore

The Eisenhower Doctrine of the late 50s committed the US to send military aid to any Middle Eastern country that requested it, for the purpose of preventing Communist penetration into the region.

Now, the idea of their having to request it is nice, but Ike set us on the course which ends where we are today, and look how much fun it is: the Hap-hap-HAPPIEST Geopolitics on Earth.

The business of backtracking through history to find The Cause of ( fill in the blank ) is a useful exercise. Ian McLeod has ably shown that 9/11 can be lain at Lincoln's feet (must convince him to blog that!). The revising of History, as well as the NOT-teaching of same leads inexorably to Santayana's prophecy: we SHALL be doomed to repeat it. Like the Beav, it seems we NEVER really learn our lesson.

Okay...It's been a quiet weekend. The Whole Crew went to Anime Weekend Atlanta. The Dread Dormomoo and I had the run of the place, so of course we did the ONLY thing a couple of hot-blooded, well-nigh unto middle-agers would think of doing given such a solitary situation.

All over the place.

Yep, we moved stuff. LOTS of stuff.
And sorted some of it, too.

You never know how much stuff you have 'til you have to MOVE it!
We recently moved our biz, and whilst we have the production equipment in place and operational, all the ancillary stuff was still at the old place, along with personal items-boxes and boxes of it- that we had sequestered at the old shop 'cos there was room there and of course we would sort it eventually and get rid of most of it so we would never again have to move it.

Fine...

So we moved it.

Yeah, I've still got it!

Why am I doing this? Read me. Please.


OK, here's the thing. I am gonna push for another crime to become eligible for capital punishment.
TIME-WASTING.

Not MY time wasting. Blogging, playing Carmageddon, and collecting Gerry Anderson stuff is OK. It is your wasting my time that is egregious, and worthy of the Reaper's tender mercies.
I am waiting at a stop sign. You are approaching from my left. I wait for you to pass so I can continue my journey, BUT WAIT...you TURN RIGHT. Guess what?
YOU DIDN'T SIGNAL. You wasted fifteen seconds of my life. You STOLE fifteen seconds of my life, time you cannot give back to me. Gone. PFFFFT!

Gentle reader, do you suss how EVIL wasting others' time is? How worthy of death it is? Hey, you stole MY time...I am X seconds, minutes, hours closer to the dirt nap. (No, I do not believe Death is it...I am a believer in the world-to-come; but as they say, everyone wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.)

Don't waste my time. You wouldn't like me if you waste my time.

The Aardvark in his element! 

I've had an APOSTROPHE!!

I always loved Jackie Mason's mastery of malaprop!
My epiphany happened whilst driving with I.M.
You see, I've been looking at our nation-especially our politics,
and I cannot for the life of me figure out how we have arrived at
the sorry state we are in today: parties with no Guiding Principles
beyond Power. Precisely ZERO interest in accomplishing goals or keeping
promises. Just me, me, me. I, my, mine.

Then, a bolt from the blue: There are no Republicans, no Democrats.
No Liberals, no Conservatives, no Lukewar...er...Moderates.

There are only Sinners.

That's it! For all have sinned, and fall short of God's glory.

This is the source of all greed, all selfishness, all self-aggrandisement.
All pride, all evil, all treachery, promise-breaking, infidelity.
All from sin.

Hmmmmmmm....Somebody needs to do their JOB.
Romans 1:16-19, "For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believes; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek. For therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith: as it is written, The just shall live by faith. For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness;"

Holy Fanfic, Batman!!!

We have been watching a National Geographic program on the whole
"Da Vinci Code" thing. Umberto Eco was on it...briefly. His opinion is that Jesus' alleged marriage to Mary Magdalene is a fairy tail, on par with "Pinocchio and Little Red Riding Hood".

Sweet.

Momoovark- also known as the Dread Dormomoo- repeated her contention that the gnostic gospels, and other rejected manuscripts, are in fact early church fanfic.

Just a little summat to start your week!

HAPPY SUNDAY!

As I blog this, I should be shaving and prepping for church. (As a Trekkie, I was always amused that "Kirk" means "church". O, the allegory, the ALLEGORY!) I am teaching the Library Class, so named 'cause of where we meet, about cults. Today, we deal with UFO cults. Or UFO-ism period.
The punchline: as the alleged UFOnauts invariably teach their abductees what clearly they gleaned from Shirley Maclaine bestsellers, they are not promoting the spread of Jesus' Gospel.
(Are you as shocked as I?) Therefore, they are at LEAST anti-christian, and likely demonic in origin. A quick read of Strieber's would seem to corroborate this thesis.
Then, I will likely get to enjoy a sermon on yet another unique way which I can fail God. (Our current preacher- a PowerPoint addict- uses the "f-word" a lot. Fail, failure...like that.)
I go to teach, to worship, to give, to hear the Word read, and to partake the Lord's Supper.
At present, I endure the preaching. Anyone relate?
I must awa' to scrape my face.

Jimmy Stewart You scored 2% Tough, 4% Roguish, 71% Friendly, and 19% Charming!

You are the fun and friendly boy next door, the classic nice guy who still manages to get the girl most of the time. You're every nice girl's dreamboat, open and kind, nutty and charming, even a little mischievous at times, but always a real stand up guy. You're dependable and forthright, and women are drawn to your reliability, even as they're dazzled by your sense of adventure and fun. You try to be tough when you need to be, and will gladly stand up for any damsel in distress, but you'd rather catch a girl with a little bit of flair. Your leading ladies include Jean Arthur and Donna Reed, those sweet girl-next-door types. Find out what kind of classic dame you'd make by taking the Classic Dames Test.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 0% on Tough You scored higher than 17% on Roguish You scored higher than 99% on Friendly You scored higher than 37% on Charming

Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on Ok Cupid

GOD pushed the smite button, did He?

OK, let me deal with the lunacy that ALWAYS spews forth from the mouths preachers and wannabe "prophets of GOD-uh" whenever there is a catastrophe,
natural or otherwise.
Rather, let me let God Himself deal with it:

1 God, having of old time spoken unto the fathers in the prophets by divers portions and in divers manners, 2 hath at the end of these days spoken unto us in his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom also he made the worlds; Hebrews 1:1-2

Well, that says it all. God is NOT speaking through new prophets, through wind or fire, or through a televangelist. He has spoken through His Son. The message of Jesus Christ is what God has spoken. Little things like "Love your neighbor as yourself", and "If you love Me, you will keep My commandments". Uncomfortable things like Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to the whole creation. 16 He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that disbelieveth shall be condemned. (Mark 16:15,16).


The wind is the wind. The rain is the rain. Neither is constant, nor readable. God's Word does not change. His Truth is settled in the heavens. We are rational beings, who are created in the image of a rational God. Therefore, He does not speak to us through the climatic equivalent of a rolled-up newspaper. He speaks through the Word, not by pressing the "Smite" button.


So, in Jesus' Name, SHUT UP. Be muzzled, even. Stop blaspheming our loving Father.

Now, I was not going to drag politics into this horror, but C Ray Nagin,
the redoubtable mayor of New Orleans, has been whining that if they weren't black, the citizens would have been rescued by now.
Let's see...Nawlins has been under Democrat leadership since, oh, FOREVER, and has developed such a gimmee mentality, leaders elected with promises of MORE gimmees for the proles.
Liberal Democrats have been in control.
Liberal Democrats had NO EFFECTIVE PLAN in place for a disaster that all knew was going to hit.
Liberal Democrats now play the race card, and whine that an unprecedented catastrophe has not been fixed by the waving of the Presidential Magic Wand.

Now THAT'S effective leadership.