Saturday night something-something...

The Dread Dormomoo and I are in the grippe of a virus vile. Yuck is the rule of the day.

STAR TREK - The Corbomite Maneuver

This is a major favorite of mine! I hope you relish it as much as I!

Kirk enters the bridge from the turbolift...hand-held over-the-shoulder shot following him to Uhura's station. A Cube is holding them up the Enterprise.
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Spock: "...some kind of Space Buoy"

Dread Dormomoo: "or Space Girl."
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That's why we love 'er!


Mr. Bailey, the Navigator/Whipping Boy, is a Mouthy Thing, given to Backtalk and Expostulation.





Lt. Bailey: "I vote we BLAST IT!"

Kirk: "I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Bailey, when this becomes a democracy."
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OK...the Fesarius arrives, and I am gripped with...ennui. The ORIGINAL '60s effects show a glowing, somewhat indistinct enormous ship, pulsing with power. It is menacing! Not so the NEW SFX, which show detail underneath the glowy balls, making it look like a Borg cube decked out with Christmas lights. And the different sizes of balls do not pulse, alternating from large to small. It looks...cheap.

I haz a sad.

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The mini-Fesarius looks better.

Balok, the Tranya-loving little corn-toothed freak. Clint Howard before he got to be good-looking. Oh, wait...

Vic Perrin does his voice.
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Svengoolie: The Ghost and Mr. Chicken.

I am NOT a fan of the comedic stylings of Don Knotts, but this little movie amuses me. It may be the all-character-actor cast, or the spooky Vic Mizzy score, but 9PM CST, I will be watching it. Fun. Good times!

This from my Facebook last night.

BANG! Right on the head!

Poor Otis.

Less than 10 minutes in, and we have a Barney freak-out.



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Vic Mizzy wins. The organ music sounds like the guy who wrote music for "The Adventures of Mark Twain" was a Mizzy fan.

The mourning of things passed.

I mourn the passing of the "classic" grandmothers, schooled in kitchens redolent with spices and culinary magic. Bradbury wrote of such in "Dandelion Wine". I have a treasure-trove: my grandmother's cookbooks AND her recipe file cards! I remember cookie-sheets filled with toasted pecans at Christmas-time. Cheese biscuits, fruit cakes, tiny mini-muffin fruitcakes. Humdingers. Crystalised grapefruit peel.

Summer had squash and onions, stewed tomatoes, boiled okra (a travesty, like eating a cold), an amazing fresh cold relish of diced tomatoes, green peppers, and onions in vinegar, outstanding with blackeyed peas! Fresh corn on the cob, wonderful corn OFF the cob! Fried chicken! FRESH BISCUITS! Winter was filled with mason jars full of the summer's bounty! And all, ALL prepared by my grandmother, and Louila, the wonderful black lady who helped her around the house.

I cannot see this being continued this generation. Women are taught to find fulfillment in a cubicle, filling forms and doing PowerPoint, rather than being the provider of miracles from garden and kitchen. Food comes from boxes, pouches and cans, now, pre-measured, pre-seasoned, virtually pre-digested. The government's tax levels require both husband and wife to work, yet they cannot get by beyond the basics. There will be no miraculous grandmothers ere long. Cereal for breakfast, Swanson for dinner, Michelle's Menu for school lunch.

No time. "Lovin' from the Oven" is canned biscuits.

I weep. I mourn.

Saturday Night Somewhat Soberblog.

Dat Wonder Woman! At a sci-fi onvention!! An apparently tiny con!

"Wonder Woman Spaced Out"

Rene Auberjonois in '70s mufti. Tragic.


As I said, tragic.

Rene A. plays an uber-thief hired to steal collimating crystals for an uber-laser weapon. An uber-thief who can't do buttons.

How did we survive the '70s?

Robbie the Robot AND Paul Smith, AKA Bluto, AKA "Beast" Rabban.  Sometimes this is not a dreadful show.
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Star Trek.

MIRI

Dat Kim Darby.



And Michael J. Pollard. "GWUPS!"

And the ugly kid from To Kill a Mockingbird:



"BONK BONK! On the head!"

This is one of the best Trek episodes!  Well thought-out.

And Yeoman Rand!



NO BLAH-BLAH-BLAH!
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THE MUMMY.

Boris Karloff sure gets wrapped up in his work.

One of the best con shirts I ever did was for Famous Movie Monstercon, a sadness of a con through no fault of the promoter or the subject matter. We used this picture:


to striking effect.

The Western "acquisition" of Egyptian antiquities is a difficult concept for Twenty-First Century sensibilities. The "For Science!" rubric covered a multitude of archaeological sins.

"Do you have to open graves to find girls to fall in love with you?"  That's enough to eviscerate a guy!

The Mummy dood it. You're welcome for the spoiler!
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I gotta get ready for tomorrow. Have a faboo Sunday!

Math is Hard, Sez Barbie.

When I was newly-married, I read the book Michaelmas by Algis Budrys. This was during the post-Star Wars paradise of science fiction book releases, multiple racks of them, even in hometown discount stores. The story was about the world's Most Beloved Newsreader, who wrote the news, and who was himself a CG construct.

Think Max Headroom, only interesting.

This novel led me to prophesy that the time was coming when it would become difficult-to-impossible to tell the difference between "real" and "virtual" events. I believe that I am close to being justified in this Cassandran utterance. The sheep entrails, however, do not augur a forecast dire, rather one of mild interest; "Not with a bang, but a whimper."

Movies are over-run with CGI effects, to their detriment. Yeah, The Last Starfighter was a rum go, delightsome in its odd way, especially Centauri's channeling of Prof. Harold Hill, but the spacecraft were accomplished with sheer computational brute force. No models dangling from wires nor attached to motion-control rigs, just the numbers going in, going around and around, and coming out here! They worked, but they were too perfect, too clean. Lawrence of Arabia would have loved it there. Computer spaceships have taken the solar wind from the sails of SF TV and movies. Even the venerable Star Trek was not immune to the pixelated siren's song, for they have replaced the practical, real-world effects with CG Enterprises, Tholians, Klingons, and sundry planets. The charm is gone. Godzilla (2014)? No zipper.

Math is hard, and the endless parade of mathematically-induced droids and orcs rendered me insensate. I slept through the major battle scenes in Lord of the Rings movies AND the last batch of Star Wars flicks. Thankfully, there is a move to restore the realm of "practical effects" to its rightful place and altitude. Rick Baker is seeking to preserve his effects work history, and Gerry Anderson's son is crowdfunding a return to marionettes with real models, real explosions...everything!

Let's bring back practical, real-world effects, and forestall the Virtual Apocalypse!

"So round, so firm, so fully packed." Lou Costello's scheming girlfriend starts , and he finishes.

That is the best line in Abbott And Costello Meet Frankenstein.
I have never been an Abbott and Costello fan, not even "Who's on First?", nor any of the other bits derived therefrom. Lugosi has always been over-rated. The character of Larry Talbot is a whiny-boy.
Frankenstein's monster isn't Karloff.

Other than that, it's a pretty good movie.

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My favorite Mudd episode "Mudd's Women" was on tonight. Roger C. Carmel has steely cunning in this turn, as opposed to the over-the-top comedy of "I, Mudd".


The women are, well..

"Is this your crew, captain?"
"Well, no, captain. This is me cargo."

Kirk trying not to smirk. Such range!

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Third season Lost in Space. 'Nuff said.

Happy Sunday!

There may yet be hope.

I posted this on FaCHAYbook:

“Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” cancelled?

I think the nation's collective IQ just went up 1 SD.

A con buddy sez  

You may be being generous with how much of an increase there was in it.

•  

   To which I replied:

   I dunno, Ren...it WAS pretty bad, and the cultural drag thus released would make for a pretty good leap upward. It may settle back to a more pedestrian level, but in the next two weeks I expect true cures for cancer, ebola, and the completion of several unfinished symphonies. Also, a jet pack that runs on sugar water.

In Dust and Ashes....

photo: newlife.com

I  have neglected the myriad of reader here at my little corner of the Blog-o-VerseTM and for that I repent in dust in ashes! Not without a whinging excuse, however. Your Aardvark has been busy. Amazingly so; simply covered up with work. This is a GOOD thing, but is tiring on a body, and has taken my attention away from more creative endeavors, such as the BlogRadio thing. I shall attempt to do more writing. I have several things rabbiting around in my head to deal with, Things of Import.

But now is not that time. Mr. Wolff and I are great fans of the series SUPERCAR. He writes some amazing stories from that universe. We became friends on the Yahoo group Black_Rock_One, and one of the Supercar discussions was the possibility of building a Gerry Anderson Supermarionation theme park. Hilarity and creativity ensued.

The Dread Dormomoo and I went to Chattanooga for a couple of days Away, and went to our Amusement Park of Choice, Lake Winnie (really Lake Winnepesaukah) We found a wonderful ride which would be perfect for the STINGRAY section of the Supermarionation Park. The most evident bad guys are Aquaphibians:




Well, kiddies, the perfect Aquaphibian ride is "The Sea Warrior". A little paint modification will do the trick!







It is an...intense ride, made the moreso by my discovery of a phobia of thrill ride latches. The latch on this thing was secure. I checked it, the ride operator checked it. The ride is comparatively tame as things go, a scrambler with Z-axis motion as well, heavy on the centripetal force. My little brainworm kicked in and I had visions of our being flung across the park. I have never been afraid, really afraid on a ride before.

Then  there was The Matterhorn. (Video by TheDrivingBlogger)






More latch worries. Lake Winnie has a GOOD reputation for ride maintenance, but fears are not rational, and I was NOT rational. Let's just say I wasn't speaking English by the time the ride was through. It was fun, and I enjoyed all the sensations concomitant with high-speed air travel, but the concern of our being catapulted across the park, well, that's me all over.

We went to Raccoon Caverns as well. I felt safer with megatons of rock above me.

This is not as grim as I paint it. We had a VERY fun time, just those two rides that tweaked my lizard brain. It's just that having fun is more work than it used to was.

STOP....END....TERMINATE

Photo from "The Andromeda Strain", Universal Pictures

I do not care if you are a giggling fanboy of Hizzoner Mr. Obama, or if you are his most ardent foe; the President and his court of jesters are making dreadful decisions, deadly decisions, decisions that could truly decimate (and MORE) the population of these United States.

When I was in, oh, the sixth grade, we learned about the typhoid epidemic, and about the protocols that public health officials developed to track down Patient Zero, and then, all the potential exposed persons. Included in those protocols was quarantine. Later, "The Readers Digest" titillated its readers by detailing the selfsame methods used to track down those with syphilis and gonorrhea in attempts to deal with the incipient epidemic of STDs in the '60s and '70s. Point: we have a disease of frightening virulence being treated like a head cold. There is no effort being made to limit incoming travelers from Ebola hot zones. The CDC head his own self said "The right of return (via air travel-ed.) is more important than preventing disease.". Our borders are perilously porous, and should an outbreak reach Central America, there will be a flood of Ebola victims coming north to the cornucopia of medical wonders. I do not think that the President's feel-good whistling past the graveyard will prevent National Guard units and state militias setting up machine guns on the border facing south, and producing scenes that make Walking Dead and World War Z look like a Disney movie. "War on Ebola"? That will be the warfare, unless we can miniaturise submarines ad SEALS to fight the virus hand-to-hand.

I call on Congress, and upon the President to cease giving a deadly virus civil rights, end air travel to and from hot zones like Liberia, and seal our borders. Mr. Kerry has said "We NEED open borders. We NEED unimpeded air travel (from Liberia, Sierra Leone, etc. -ed.)". Why? WHY? Why are these things needed? What purpose is served by these conditions? This putative need is not axiomatic; it is merely a step toward, a precursor to...what?

Is the "what" worth an epidemic entering, being imported into our country, an epidemic which makes you bleed from every orifice? Does Mr. Obama wish to see his daughters bleed out before his eyes? Does he and his followers wish to see mass exsanguination of his fans and foes alike?
Viruses are a-political; they just wish to use you as a vast reproductive organ. If our leaders do not begin treating this disease like a disease instead of as a privileged minority, well, we will be screwed.

Royally.

IT'S COLOSSAL!!

I am already receiving pitches for new sci-fi movie extravaganzas! This from a Malcolm Coyote, I think it was....

I think the poster could use Trajan, though....

Scavenging

"Plan Nine From Outer Space" photo from The Dissolve

A fiend of mine, Shannon, a former deputy who now owns a gun shop shared this question on Facebook:

What (most often) makes a bad movie bad?
The script? The acting? The production quality? Or something else?

My answer(s):

The script is foundational. All the rest is onion icing on the cake.

Wait. The Concept is the plate on which the cake rests.

Imagine the Concept meetings selling Octorhana Typhoon. "It's GREAT JB! It'll kill 'em on their couches....A mad scientist develops a genetic hybrid: an octopus with piranha mouths in its suckers. Then there is a TYPHOON! I tell ya, JB, it'll be COLOSSAL!

Feel free to weigh in!

A plea.

To all the people online who are a-quiver over every SECRET image taken by a drone, or a chopper, showing *GASP* the Millennium Falcon, or this-or-that colored X-wing:

This is a Star Wars Movie. It is going to have a Millennium Falcon, and X-wings, and stuff like that.

Stop being surprised.

Death Star: BLOWN!

Does your hamburger taste different lately?

I do NOT understand the stupidity of giving grief to the people who have TOTAL CONTROL over what you are going to put in your mouth.

"Does your hamburger taste different lately?"

Seriously, your waiter (or cook!) could be one tick away from a psychotic break, and you are giving him a REASON to provide a d-Con garnish, or a white, bubbly condiment under your burger? Is this brilliant or WHAT?

NOTE: I do not recommend these actions. But they are possible (and WORSE!) if you mistreat The Staff. YouTube is full of videos like that.

Word to the wise.

Almost 40 years.

Almost 40 years.
I have TRIED. I really have, but aside from dreadfully few individual episodes, I find Space:1999 to be a load of foetid dingo's kidneys.
And Eagles would survive re-entry exactly the same way bricks wouldn't.

When is a villain not a villain?

 







   










I have been working late nights, and needed DVDs that did not require rapt attention. So-o-o-o, I opted to go through Thunderbirds again. You know, the marionettes who save the world (or a little piece of it) every week. It has long been my least favorite Supermarionation series, primarily because the pacing is often the speed of a Victorian melodrama.

I have had an epiphany. I really like Thunderbirds. The visuals are great; the music by Barry Gray is inspired; It's all good! I even love hating Alan Tracy, the whiny little jerk. He should wear John's sash. But I especially enjoy The Hood. He is International Rescue's arch-nemesis, with a jungle temple fastness, a flair for disguises, a savvy-ness for using "audio only" on a videophone while disguised, and a glowy-eyed psychic link that he uses to control his brother Kyrano, faithful man-servant to Jeff Tracy, head of IR, and the billionaire ex-astronaut pater familias of the Chez Tracy. Kyrano falls down a lot from The Hood's psychic predations.

The Hood. He is clearly The Villain With Something Extra. His schemes revolve around foiling Thunderbird One's Camera Detector (!), and then taking pictures of the Thunderbirds craft, and their control panels, whereupon he will become The Richest Man In The World (or The Most Powerful. He is fickle). Because he has pictures. Of aircraft. And control panels. BWAHAHAHA!!! Pictures!

I have whole DVDs of these things. It's done me nought....

So, with his scary glowy-eyed voodoo schtick, and his impossibly small grasp of engineering, I feel sorry for him, and thus, I find myself, after all these years, actually rooting for The Hood, and feeling mildly sad whenever his uppance comes. and oh, it comes.

Behold, and weep.

Game

So, I've moved from "Sigma" to "Alpha" in my hierarchy rating.

Hmmm...must be mellowing out.

Osteoterrorism, and Hellfire.

I note: I am not in any way complaining about results of my Course of Treatment. Anyone who cracks my neck and does NOT then go "Shhh...sshhhh...it'll all be over soon...." is a winner in my book.
No, My back and right hip are boundlessly better. I am not limping, the pain is diminished to a mere reminding pressure, though my chiropractor comments that my right hip does not want to stay aligned.
Well, Jeff, things have changed. Now my LEFT hip is doing That Thing. Next Wednesday's appointment shall be interesting.

It's like taking the car in to the mechanic. The noise that alarms you either disappears, or changes location.
Schrödinger, and the other quantum wrench-wielders, were right.
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This church sign has made its way around Facebook and other forums:

Look at the lettering.

This is a fake.

One of my FB friends sez:

The sign is fake but the message is correct. All those people along with everyone else will go to hell unless they are saved by Jesus.

To which I replied:

The sign is incorrect because of intent. It was (likely) cobbled together by non-Christians to "show" what evil haters church people are. It is also incorrect because it is too focused. If the Bible says "for ALL have sinned" our proclamation should be what the Bible says, not targeting a small number of politically iffy groups. And not even Paul said "All those people along with everyone else will go to hell unless they are saved by Jesus." Truth may be in it, but he didn't even put it that way to the idolaters in Athens in his speech on Mars Hill.

While I am having doctrinal issues with the "classic" presentation of "Hell", I fully recognise the need for and Biblicality of Divine sanction of sin. I utterly resist the "Hellfire" type preaching which purports to punch people's ticket. Paul (and the Holy Spirit Who inspired him) missed a golden opportunity in Athens, Greece to firmly present their roadmap to the Eternal Fricassee. As I recall, all of the pronouncements of eternal punishment were instructions to those in Covenant with God (or those who claimed to be). I welcome rebuttal or correction, as I do NOT wish to promulgate what is false. There are warnings about THAT, too.

Man's civilization was cast in ruin....

The year: 1994. From out of space comes a runaway planet, hurtling between the Earth and the Moon, unleashing cosmic destruction! Man's civilization is cast in ruin! Two thousand years later, Earth is reborn. A strange new world rises from the old: a world of savagery, super science and sorcery. But one man bursts his bonds to fight for justice! With his companions Ookla the Mok and Princess Ariel, he pits his strength, his courage, and his fabulous Sunsword against the forces of evil. He is Thundarr, the Barbarian!

So, the major thing is that I do third shift to be left alone, and be able to watch DVDs whilst I print shirts of passing awesomeness. That is somewhat important given that I am fifty-seven, and am fond of animation. This week I have gone through the series "Thundarr the Barbarian", a D&D-type series done in 1980-81 by Hanna Barbera lite, the Ruby/Spears Company. It is rough, but character designs by the likes of Jack Kirby and Alex Toth are in evidence. Toth designed the main characters, Kirby was brought on to do the evil wizards. Modok, anyone?





One of the things that I noticed, besides Princess Ariel, was the fact that Princess Ariel, the sorceress, the one with encyclopaedic knowledge of ancient Earth history...that selfsame Princess Ariel...

is a geek.

Yes, that is a geek.

She has peculiar knowledge, more than shading toward pop-culture. Movies, movie-making two millenia past; you can almost hear a lateral lisp. I do not do the fun-making, no. I find that this little detail adds depth and charm to her character. I will not talk about strong woman this and that; for such, fanfic exists.

If only they had come up with a non-Casio keyboard sound for Thundarr's light sabr...er, Sun Sword. It is a flatulent glissando. It is the first sound you hear before Dick Tufeld takes you away:



But listen to that score, and that tightly written introduction to the story! Tufeld utters not a spare syllable. The closing credits are just the music, and it is taut, not overdone; the single flute note over the strings just gets me. The stories are not mawkish, and they hold all the heroes in emotional check. Granted, it is a "kids' cartoon", but the interplay between Thundarr and Ariel, who clearly is crushing on the oblivious barbarian, is restrained while being obvious. The daring bit is that Ooklah the Mok, the hulking furry comic relief, really loves Ariel, and hugs her at any opportunity.

Do you really blame him?

Voice work is superb. Bob Ridgely, who voiced Filmation's Flash Gordon and Tarzan leads, and who is Mel Brooks' favorite hangman, voices Thundarr. Nellie Bellflower voices Ariel (and Rankin/Bass characters from that era),  Henry Corden voices Ooklah the Mok, and emotes well, though he is limited to grunts and growls. I do not know if Corden hugged Bellflower ("What's Ooklah's motivation, again?"). He also voiced most of the EEEEE-vil wizards.

To be clear: sorceress=GOOD. Wizard=BAD.

Other Voices are Keye Luke, Alan Oppenheimer, Chuck McCann, Nancy McKeon, Joan Van Ark, Avery Schreiber (!), Janet Waldo, Michael Bell, Michael Ansara...Hal Smith does a couple of villains, but is uncredited, but I can tell!

The scripts are quite good, and the rest of the soundtrack soundtrack is sometimes memorable, and the gestalt provides an example of why '80s cartoons were so good. Or something.

But it's not Bionic Six.


It is worth dropping $20 for!

With a knick-knack, crack your back....

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!

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This is not the exact model, but it will give the idea of the table:

Deathlexia

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.

Blivets from the Boonies

The D.D. and I went to town yesterday, and we saw a truck similar to this:

fetchmyflyingmonkeys blog

Herself looked at me and said "Body Snatchers".

That's why I love her!
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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?

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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!