Their Little Pony - Larceny is Magic.

 

 
On top of it all, the world's smallest pony was abducted?

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I am loading up on (cheap) vintage anime. Watching "Giant Robo" (spoilers galore!), a quite good mech series in which the mechanical giants do not overshadow the human drama. The soundtrack is breathtaking, as is Ginrei, the Experts of Justice operative with legs that won't quit!



















The story is engaging, revolving around the Shizuma Drive, an energy source that has effectively replaced coal, oil and atomic power generation. But the Shizuma Drive has a dark secret....

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Thank you for bearing with my rant. It is still accurate, but allow me to say that I have not dug a hole and pulled it in after me, nor am I kicking kittens, nor even slapping charitable Whoppers from the clutching hands of the indigent. I will help with the "at hand" stuff, certainly, but the bigger demands for emotional and cognitive caring, well, I'm going dark for awhile, at least until the next Awful Thing surfaces on Facebook.

Like this.
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REALLY looking forward to Svengoolie's new season. Because change.
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Discovering things...apparently beer is to me as gluten is to the Dread Dormomoo. Must find non-wheat beer. My digestion is unhappy, so am spending the morning away from Polite Company.
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Your Aardvark ceases to be an Aardvark this week, and transmogrifies into a Guinea Pig. There is a medical study going on about getting-up-at-night-to-urinate, and I am involved. The drug in question is apparently a first cousin to stuff like Cialis. What has Science done? Tadalafil is also used as a hypertension drug; Cialis is its trade name for...other uses. Let the giggling begin, kiddies.
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Have a lovely Sunday!

The out...SHE BURNS!

I wish to be carefree. Care-free. There is too much to care about. I have been enjoined to care about ice melting, and polar bears having to swim in it. Now I am told that Arctic ice has grown hugely this year. I suppose they want me to care about that, too. The bears may need ice skates

I am far less hirsute than once I was. There are commercials and billboards telling me about hair growth methods. They want me to care about my hair (most of the guys in the ads look better in the "before" shots. They look fatter "after".) My email spam filter is full of things about parts of my body that need improvement by their lights, and I should care about that. I care that they want to separate me from my money to fix problems I don't have. I regularly get phone calls from "firefighters organisations" or "police organisations" who want me to care enough to give money to them so their telemarketers can get paid. (I give to my local departments directly. Don't fall for obvious telemarketing, when the background sounds like the audience at a boxing match with all the other marketers calling all their other marks for funds.) We are often besieged by people intensely interested with our using their method or product to make more money. I have learned that their intensity is really aimed at our bank account. Sorry, I do not believe in altruism, doubly not from a cold-caller. I don't care about them, or their offers.

I have been called upon in the past decade to care about large financial buildings mysteriously telescoping into their own footprints after being hit by airliners. I have been told to care about bearded men hiding in caves plotting our national demise. I have had "lather, rinse, repeat" about Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, now Syria. I am told to care that Israel...whatever. I am told to care about how dreadful our healthcare system is, and that I should care to have my pockets raided to pay for others' healthcare in our dreadful system. I am supposed to care about Congress, and our political process, and representation, of which I see little; thus, I care little. I am supposed to care, because our President and First Lady care. They appear to care more about golf and travel than about my needs. I am supposed to care that groups are upset at my group over things that my group haven't done in a century and a half.

I don't care about these things.

I am supposed to care that you didn't place your order right, so you need me to not go on a weekend with my wife...away...so you won't look as stupid as you are. I am supposed to care that this might offend.

I don't anymore.

There is a thing called Disclosure. It is the Holy Grail of UFO-dom: getting the Guv-mint to admit that there are extraterrestrials, that UFOs are alien spacecraft, and that MacArthur learned to smoke a corn-cob pipe from the Greys in a downed foo-fighter. Never happen. Not caring anymore. And Georgr Noory, I don't care about "Contact", either. Lousy movie. "Cosmos" was much better science fiction.

My wife and I have a life. It is called Work. We do work for tons of people, and the vast majority are ginger-peachy; the snowflakes, and the public school teachers who cannot follow directions and get an order done correctly, and the people who expect my schedule to bend, and who jump ahead of others through their poor planning, well, I'm supposed to CARE that they don't want to look dumb, if they are even capable of realising it. I'm beyond caring.

Gas bombs in Syria. I don't care. Not my problem, not my country, not Our Country's business. I am supposed to care about wars fomented by those who would profit from both sides. I am supposed to care about loathsome diseases largely spread by choice, and to pity (and fund) those who so choose. I am supposed to care about a group that feels disenfranchised for this or that, when there are no rights extant to support their whining, and when what they want is a privilege, not a right. I am supposed to care when people arm-flail and panic at the mention of a gun. Or a knife. Or a spork.

I. Don't Care.
Not. My. Problem.

If you are reading this and have the idea rabbiting through your head "Well, that's not very CHRIS-chun." go ahead. I DON'T CARE. I do not stand before you for judgment.

I'm supposed to care that womyn fear me, because I am a man, and therefore a rapist by nature. According to my spam, they should have no worries. But I don't care. If they want to live like scared twelve-year-olds perpetually telling ghost stories around the campfire, that's their lookout. Watch out for the guy with a hook for a hand.

Environmentalism-ists invariably have a new Dire Prophecy that makes Nostradamus look like an optimist. They are invariably wrong, and have to change their terms, move their goalpost. Not caring.

There is an endless number of things waving at us, saying "Hey, listen!" in a high squeaky voice. There is a care surplus...every day if it's not GMO, it's the bees, or aspartame, or the latest heresy spouted by a huckstervangelist...or our President. It's Lindsay Graham flouncing about worrying us over nukes in Charleston Harbor.

Fukushima, anyone?

Every day brings new things to care about. Well, I'm done. I have a care gap. We cannot care anymore. Those synapses have burned out. The Giving Tree has withered.

And I don't care that it has.

Send three boxtops and 25 cents in coin to....

The Aardvark loves and APPRECIATES his customers from all over the Western Spiral Arm of the galaxy. He would be unable to buy toys and oatmeal for the 'varklets without you. One thing puzzles him.

Why the need for all the handholding during online transactions? In his yout', the Aardvark would order Fun Things from the back of cereal boxes, f'rinstance. He would fill out the form, address and stamp the envelope, include the twelve boxtops and the requisite moolah. The post would take it away, and 6-8 weeks later, the wondrous toy would arrive. No-one called me to say "This is Kellogg's, and we got your order to-day! We have opened the envelope.". Or a week later, "This is Kellogg's again, we have processed your order, and will put it in the box in ten days. We shall mail it two Mondays hence.".

Like that.

There seems to be a neurotic assumption that EVERY business online is just out to GET you, that swindling is in the air, and that a spotless record on eBay, say, means absolutely nothing. Back in the mail-order days of the Fifties and Sixties, we cast our bread on the commercial waters, and our goodies would return Parcel Post. No worries, other than the delicious anticipation. Six weeks? We were ecstatic to get the thing.

What has happened?

Bless me, for I have....

I was in the wilds of Lexington, KY this weekend, at a little anime con. In thirty-three years of huckstering at fandom conventions, your Aardvark has seen a lot. Seen a lot. He normally handles it with grace and aplomb, as well as dispatch. Not so this weekend, and I don't know why....

One of the downsides of fannish and cosplay activities in a culture adrift from the moorings like self-control and modesty is the issue of people almost wearing costumes. Or almost wearing regular clothes. The thing du jour this weekend was shorts. Cutoff shorts. Short shorts. One chick wore black shorties with a black studded bikini top.  What is normally pretty much just part of the scenery at a con became Noticeable-Very- and difficult to ignore or turn away from. The sort of thing Warm Thoughts can be made of.

Now, I am married, and faithful. I try to stay away from what might compromise that estate, so I was intensely uncomfortable with this situation. I was thinking about this, and other issues congruent, especially the "slut walk" phenomenon whereby young women parade their non-responsibility for any consequences of their actions, period (Rigel Kent wrote eloquently of this over the weekend). Much bloody ink has been spilled over this point. The bottom line is that there is no excuse for rape, yes? If anyone suggests that a woman might have ANY contribution toward having been raped, ALL the umbrage is taken. "YOU'RE SAYING IT'S THE WOMAN'S FAULT!. YOU'RE BLAMING HER!! You're using SHAMING language."

Again, there is no excuse for a man to rape a woman. (Note: changing one's mind the morning after does not constitute rape.) However, it IS possible to provide a convivial environment for Unlawful Carnal Knowledge to take place, providing an environment for Warm Thoughts. (I do NOT buy the feminist line that  "Rape is just about power". That is just Marxist cant.)

[Allow the assurance for all my Reader that your Aardvark is NOT in stir for making improper advances, or for being anything other than a Consummate Gentleman.]

The young women at the con, and all the innocent slut walkers are guilty of something, however. They are being unkind. Unkind to thoughtlessly(?) titillate the young men, the older men, around them. The "Do unto others" rubric applies. It is not kind, it is not helpful to subject others to unwanted or unneeded inappropriate display. Clear? Of course, in an increasingly narcissist society, this may not be simple to grasp. Makes me unhappy, makes me uncomfortable, makes me think unpleasant things about you, like "You don't care about others.", "You are none too bright.", "Did you even think before you left the house?  Like that.

I want to "keep me only unto" the Dread Dormomoo. I do not appreciate what might skew my vision from that goal, that might cause my eye to wander.

"Oh, that is YOUR problem Mr. Aardvark. You should not oughta look!"

Ahhh, Grasshopper. The marksman does not shoot where there is no target.

It is the stuff of tangos.

A little Adam West fun...with VO by Paul Frees!

Saturday

I really hope I am never killed as a hate crime. It would be terrible to be so much MORE dead because the killer hated me.

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The day has been fine. I built the bookshelves for The Dread Dormomoo, and we feasted on what should be termed "Tennessee Valley Oysters": boiled peanuts. I did a crockpot version overnight, and they are wonderful!

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Watched "Ghidorah" for the first time today. 1964 never looked better! I must confess to watching the American version. The dub was not bad.  Akiko Wakabayashi played "Mas Selina Salno, Princess of Sergina" in the film. She is best known to folks like us as "Aki", "Tiger" Tanaka's girl Kinyoubi in "You Only Live Twice". Lovely gel!

The slapstick in Ghidorah, especially between Godzilla and Rodan provides an amusing break in the fighting and suspense. Overall a fun flick.

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Amazon has a lot of the kaiju movies on their video service. Very good stuff!

Have a lovely Sunday, and then Labor Day. We do not plan to labor.

A Paul Frees fix for Jay:

This is the opening to a tragically amusing CBS offering in the late sixties:






Paul Frees did a standout narration. No-one says "man" quite like he.

In Other News...

Met with Vidad and family on Monday. He had written a commercial for Aardvark Screenprinting.

A ten-minute commercial.

We recorded it. Riatsila voiced Jean-Luc Picard and Mr. Scott. I voiced Kirk, McCoy, Stan Aardvark.

Vidad stole the show. In our ten-minute radio ad.

It will be put up on YouTube, with a link here in a few days. I will shop it to podcasts and college stations. (We have a couple of 'casts already). If anyone likes it and wants to link it in Reddit, feel free. We want this to go viral.

I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas!

The Creature...

Been to Orlando and back. I'm sure this sounds fun.

I am SO busy (or at least, so disorganised in my time management) that I have little time to read dead-tree books. No leisurely hour-long lunches spent scarfing whilst vacationing on Perelandra, or Camazotz (reminds me of Orlando with less color), or time-traveling through the 20th century. I have a Kindle, which seems to lend itself to shorter stints, but as my reading speed drops by half when I use it, it frustrates.

Ah, but audiobooks! The Kindle supports them, and Riatsila and I spent the 20-hour round trip listening to a horror story, a true one. Not Mengele's diary, nor Mussolini's train schedules, no. This is global horror, and a tale I have wished to read for years.

The Creature From Jekyll Island By Edward Griffin

 (The Creature From Jekyll Island is also an hour+ long audio presentation. The link sends you to a .pdf transcript with a link to the audio as well.)

Creature tells the story of the creation of the Federal Reserve, starting with a secret meeting of men who controlled 1/7 of the world's wealth. From this compelling start, Griffin weaves a tale which not only will make your jaw drop and raise your hackles, but will explain simply and plainly How Money Works, and Why It Doesn't Anymore. It may be the most important secular book book I have ever read.

I cannot recommend it more highly.

My new hero!

The Monolith Monsters

Svengoolie was running "The Mummy's Hand", which I opted to shake off. Instead, the Dread Dormomoo and I are watching Universal's "The Monolith Monsters", one of the finest late Fifties SF thrillers. No A-bombs, no giant bugs; instead a meteor lands in the desert and becomes a force of nature. No malevolent will, just mindless mayhem.

I am reminded of Washington, DC.

The obsidianesque shards begin to grow when wet. The rains descended, the floods came, the rocks grew. They grow into towering crystals until the ground no longer supports them, and they topple, crashing to splintered ruin on the ground. Then those shards begin to grow and spread. Dreadful catastrophe approaches the little desert town of San Angelo.

I cannot recommend this movie enough. It was a refreshingly different concept when made, and remains so today. The visual effects are well done, the miniature work is apparently shot at high speed to give a feeling of weight and menace to the growing monolith crystals, as well as to the solution at the end of the movie.

Les Tremayne is standout in his portrayal of the town's frustrated newspaper publisher. SF stalwart William Schallert has a fun little bit as a meteorologist being pressed as to when the rain will stop.
Here is how I got it.

The 'Vark Opines, wherein he deals with Him who is Who.

Peter Capaldi announced as the new Doctor

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I do not know about this actor. I did not know about Eccleston, Tennant, or Smith, so it's up for grabs. I am reasonably assured that despite the darker opinions on the Internet, Moffat and Co. have no interest in torpedoing their cash cow. (Pause and meditate upon that image). We've had Dark and Brooding, Pretty Boy, and Pardon Me, I Have a Face Like a Shoe. This guy has the Look that may make for an interesting personality. I'm willing to give him the chance.
As I said on Facebook when tasked by a young friend, I really could care less. It is a good show, I will watch it, unless it is unexpectedly execrable. I believe that it transcends the actor. Doctor Who survived Colin Baker.

Yeah. I went there.

So here's the thing...I see people kvetching about members using Biblical texts in their comments on other sites, particularly conservative or Tea Party-type fora . "Some of us don't want Bible verses thrown in our faces..." or somesuch. (That was a quasi-quote, NOT an attack.) The hilarious thing is that attitude is what has placed us in our current situation (and I speak of the West in general, not just the YouEss of AY). A culture inculcated in the attitude of "Do to others as you want them to do to you." is going to be a more pleasant place to live than one where it is everyone for himself. The West was built on the foundation of the Biblical text; from the Law of Moses to the Golden Rule, our system of laws was based upon that. (Please note: I am not making the absurd assertion that "everyone was Christian".) Law was at least somewhat viewed as an objective authority by which to govern our lives, passions and behaviors. England has quite self-consciously denied that foundation, and is in the painful process of crashing and burning to the music of Islamic ululation. These United States have done similarly, legal precedent (judges' opinions) rules the day, and we have no objective cultural plumbline by which to measure ourselves. By denying our foundation, we are cast adrift on the tide of popular opinion, so please view the inclusion of a Biblical quote as an attempt to provide an anchor point in our national slide toward the abyss.

We are where we are because it became chic to be irreligious, and to deny our cultural roots. The lawlessness of our "leadership" is the endgame to this scenario. Without an objective standard, it all becomes a battle of opinions, and mine is as valid as yours (or as in-valid).

The Bible quotes that you decry are ultimately attempts to rescue our culture, our nation. It will be good for you, too. "Rising tide" and all that.

Most Hated SF Intro

Star Cops.
Justin Hayward did the song.






Followed by the SECOND most hated theme.





And y'know? I like 'em both!

Jaegermeister

In other news, my sweet wife, The Dread Dormomoo, and I went on a date last night. (Keep an ear out for a Loud Trumpet...the fact that we made time to go out may be a portent of The End.)

We went to see "Pacific Rim". If I may make a mild suggestion:

GO SEE PACIFIC RIM!!!!!

It was quality film-making, with the barest minimum of bad language. Period. (I mean, it has Ron Perlman in it....)

It is the cleanest movie I have seen in forever. The writing is crisp, the visual effects are superb (You will believe giant monsters and giant robots can exist!) For them wot this is important to, there is no nudity, no sex, the only flowing juices come from badly injured monsters. For those who think violence IS pr0n, well, you're out of luck...go see Pippi Longstocking or summat.

If you are sensitive to LOUD, stuff cotton-wool in your shell-like.

Go see this movie. This is NOT a request! If you like SF, see it. If you like horror, see it. If you like Godzilla movies, SEE IT! If you like antagonists becoming buddies, see it. If loyalty and honor bring a tear to your eye, see it.

I hope that I am clear on this. SEE IT!!!

Then lobby Congress for funding to build Jaegers. You never know when you're gonna need a giant robot. It's for DEFENSE!!

(See how adroitly I steered this back to politics? Carry on!)

The Weapon of Choice.

I have been wallowing in Japanese cinema goodness for a couple of days. Godzilla, Mothra. The greats. None of this lightweight Kurosawa stuff. Miyazaki might as well be animating "Homestuck". I'm talkin' REAL movies!

Watched "Godzilla Tokyo SOS" last night as I printed into the wee hours, and bar none, my favorite screen weapon is the venerable Maser Cannon that is always trundled out to face the Advancing Menace. It is not kept back to protect high-risk targets, no. It is in the front lines, ready to fry Godzilla with Microwave Death. Mmmmmm...extra crispy!

No-one considers the results of Attracting Attention From Something With Atomic Breath! The beam fires, Godzilla roars a bit, then his back plates glow and the atomic breath beam comes from his mouth. One shot, and the Maser Cannon looks like your kid's Lego collection all over his floor, just burnier. Really makes me wonder if the Maser Cannon Division should have red shirts.

...Or wear the outfits the kamikaze pilots wore. One fact is flat: If you roll forward in a Maser Tank, you are not coming back.

Perhaps something in red....

Our President signs HIV testing Executive Order

Our President signs HIV testing Executive Order

Why would Our President, yours and mine, wish to have everyone from 16 to 65 tested for HIV?

"Because Obama wants to know who else he can screw and get away with it."

Now, for the person that said that, it is the equivalent of Billy Graham dropping an F-bomb during a sermon. This person is, shall we say, indignant over the Obamster's high-handed uppity political style. As am I. Jesus said in a different context:

"And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold.". -- Matthew 24:12

We see the practical outworking of this in our nation. Those of us who remember the Reagan years recall that, while he was not perfect, it was a time when you were proud to be an American, you loved the You-Ess-of-AY, and displayed the flag proudly. The overt attempt seemed to be a desire to Do America Right, and try to play it by the rules. It took a lot of sorrier Presidents to wear that down, and now the overt lawlessness that Bush Jr. displayed with good ol' Texas charm, and that Obama flaunts on a daily basis has worn us down to daily kvetch-fests. We may still love America as a concept, but I for one do not love the nation as it stands and is run today. It is lawless, HE is lawless, and I do not love it or him.

The Tree of Liberty is wilted.

A Poem, in Honor of The News, Politics, and the Martin/Zimmerman Stupidity

Red splashes on the whited walls
...screams in my head, or in my hands?
Pooling clots around my feet...

I laugh.

 

 

--By the Aardvark, his own self, because sometimes a picture of a unicorn just won't do.

The Godzilla con was kaiju-riffic!

 Back from Chicagoland, so hail the conquering hero! We had a phenomenal convention. Kez Wilson and his son Zach were there, and Kez shared some of my table space for the sale of comics that he worked on in the past, and for doing collectors cards by request. He did several full "Herculoids" sets for people, as well as some other fan faves (like Princess Aura from the Filmation "Flash Gordon" series.)

We had a lot of new designs, some of which are pictured above, behind my own self. (Thanks to Jeff Bean Green  of the Kaiju Brothers for the picture.)

G-Fest is an odd convention. It is eminently family-friendly, and the dealer community is close-knit, all friendly, even if they are selling the same type of merchandise. I go to scads of anime conventions, and there is not the same camaraderie. Many times the anime cons are frenetic, with people almost desperately trying to have fun, to Do It All. Not so G-Fest, where it all seems a bit more laid back and comfortable. G-Fest is more like summer camp, just without Kum Ba Yah. I am happy that this convention has introduced me not only to all the neat people I have met, but also the neat movies I have seen. I was never a giant-monster fan as a kid (tho' probably from lack of exposure), but I am making up for it now. Is the genre cheesy? Certainly! Is it High Art? Nope. Is it all good fun? Oh my, yes!

Saturday night after the dealer room closed, Kez and I grabbed supper, then adjourned to my digs to see what kaiju offerings the con had running on the hotel channel. Lo, there was "The Green Slime", an absolute horror of a movie that we proceeded to MST3K with all our might! Hilarity ensued. Then, an oddball kaiju movie, "Daigoro vs. Goliath", about an overweight young monster being cared for by the government, but sadly, the funding has been cut, and so have his rations...until a space monster rears its ugly horned head. It is precisely as good as it sounds.

I must finish "Gamera: Guardian of the Universe" now.

Trekkin'

I wouldda won, I WOULDDA!

"The Squire of Gothos" is one of the standout episodes of Star Trek TOS.
I strongly suspect Trelane is a member of the "Q" Continuum.
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Watching "I Saw What You Did". Saith the Dread Dormomoo:
"This movie has a little horror, and a lot of tedium"
That's why we love 'er!

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The Seaview is just the SEXIEST sub ever!

Have a meaningful Independence Day!

When you say "Eh" a lot, but you're not Canadian.

So, the Aardvark's hearing is going south with some speed. Not ambling south , stopping to smell the sweet clover and pet the possums, but sliding, as in the Robot Hell song from Futurama. Poor Fry.

I happened to be at Sam's Club, doing my economic duty to pump up the economy and poke Paula Deen in the eye (though I DID buy butter), and I saw an ad for a hearing aid (or a deaf aid as they say across the pond). ONLY 999.99!

ONLY! for a device that has been virtually unchanged for 50 years. (Yes, I know that some feedback filters and such have been added, but it's a mike, an amplifier, and a transducer for your output, all in a flesh-colored housing that fits over the ear.)

Just-Under-$1K. Why? It's the Evil Medical Industry!!

Wrong-o, Mary Lou. The collusion of Government and Insurance. When people paid cash for their health care, prices were lower. I remember my grandfather and his medical practice. He even kept a fully-stocked pharmacy in the back. Insurance cranked up the price "the market would bear" by spreading it out amongst all the policy holders. Hospitals and physicians raised rates to take advantage of the enormous pool of money in the insurance companies. Then Medicaid and Medicare reared their governmental heads. Between having to cover increased compliance costs, AND taking advantage of what the insurance companies were willing to pay, prices have mounted skyward. I will not deal with inflation, yet another issue aided by Fed. policies.

So bear with me if I cup my ear, or insist that you speak "at me" rather than to the air. I will not force any of you to pay for my hearing issues, unless it is just my being cranky about it all.

Where did I put that ear trumpet....

OH! Here is the Robot Hell song:

I cast a misty eye....

So, the Aardvark was perusing Lileks.com, looking at his diner postcards (I know, how can you dare consider keeping up with my fast-paced life! Blistering, it is.), and I was overcome with a dreadful case of the Wistfuls. I was seeing a bit of MY past. No, I had never been to a single one of those specific places, but I have certainly enjoyed their spiritual cousins. Pictured below is The Brandin' Iron Restaurant in Bennettsville, SC. I have eaten many a yummy meal there as a small child, and later as a young teen, I got my first Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine at their news stand. It was, as the name implies, a Western-style family restaurant, with Western appointments like steer horns, branding irons, and placemats with the branding codes. The upper image shows the restaurant. Fifties spacey-wacey glass and angles. It did not look like any of a thousand other restaurants. I miss this place. It was unique.

May I see your ID?

The flailing continues. The Voting Rights Act decision has many hieing to their fainting couches. Texas immediately implementing Voter ID somehow presages the end of Civil Rights as we know it. One teeny thing escapes people.

On the federal level, voting is not a right. Never has been. There is no Constitutional right to vote in a federal election. Read and see.

Voter ID accomplishes one thing: it identifies who is eligible to vote. If you are a citizen of the US ( and meet a few criteria, like not being a felon, being of legal age, like that) you have the franchise. You may vote. If you are not a citizen, you may not vote. How simple. Race does not enter the equation. Skin color does not. Accent does not.

Are. You. A. Citizen?

This has been spun into a Dread Racist Thing by people who are aiming for a particular group to add to their rolls, on its face a discriminatory act. Projection dictates that they call anyone "racist" who oppose their ploy, which predominately targets non-citizen Latinos to swell their voting rolls. Sounds like profiling to me.

Voter ID determines whether you are a citizen. Red, yellow, brown, black or white, ARE YOU A CITIZEN, and thus eligible to legally vote?

(Clearly I am eligible to split infinitives.)

Why would you want someone to vote illegally?

RACISS!!!

May I please suggest that if the US is a "racist nation", it is so predominantly "Up, and to the left." North of the Mason Dixon line, blue-collar racism is entrenched, and gee, Wally, it sure seems that the proggies are the ones endlessly prating about the color of one's skin. The Jacksons, Sharptons and other alleged "reverends" are generally first in line to flip that race card, generally for a profit. Democrat-instigated Jim Crow laws prevented freedmen from voting...Republican. Notable among fans of the "R" party was Frederick Douglass. (Of course, that was when the "R" actually meant summat.) Feel free to Google to prove this wrong.

Now the Supremes have said, in essence, "Enough is enough." The Southern states have been punished enough. There is no problem anymore. No poll taxes, universal franchise. And the reliable leftward drumbeat begins (though how one can beat a drum whilst flailing one's arms is beyond me). I suspect that accusations of plans for a Renewed South will be forthcoming, with plantations, and the head of the house fanning himself on the veranda, sipping a mint julep while smiling at the strains of spirituals wafting in the breeze. All the screens at the Monaco will be showing D.W. Griffith's "Birth of a Nation", except for one theater for the widdle kiddles, and that will show Disney's "Song of the South."

What? You think I paint with too broad a brush? Go re-read some of the FB posts and news editorials. Frankly I think I am being quite moderate. The flavor of despair, and the concern that the Supremes have, in a single decision, set Civil Rights back fifty years, they are all there.

Why must you assume the worst? I see it as a clarion announcement of progress...in a good way. People generally get along, unless they are forced to, then tempers flare. I sussed out early on that the "N-word" (gracious, such an infantile term) was a dreadful thing to say, on par with "G.D". Self-evident truths. I also learned that being forced to "like" someone is a sham of the first order. A law or regulation might make me sit quietly on a bus with people Different From Myself, but it cannot make me love them. My heart must be changed.

I try my best to appraise a person by their character rather than lack of, or abundance of, melanin. I find the concepts of racism and bigotry to be abhorrent in the extreme. That the Son of God died for all races is a powerful argument against letting red, yellow, black or white be anything but window-dressing. To return to my thesis, I think that many, if not most, are NOT slavering to reverse the last fifty years. Unless one is bred into hate, whatever one's tint, Southerners are content to get along with folks, especially if they are get alongable. I've been betrayed by enough white folks to make me want to resign from the club. WHATEVER the color, there are lovely, lovely people, and their are consummate liars and jerks and frauds. Oh my.

I vote that we behave as though it's all better. Credits to Navy beans, it will be.

What is he talking about, again?

 


C.S.Lewis wrote in one of his volumes about the problem of "Christ and...", that is, the tendency to ignore the sufficiency of Jesus and his atonement, and then insisting that something else can/may be added to the mix to improve it, rather like sprinkling a touch of gunpowder onto a nuclear bomb. I have run into this personally when being invited to become a Mason. "It helps you to be a better Christian!"

Glad someone found a way to fix inadequacies in the grace of God! I'm sure the Almighty lost some sleep 'til they bailed 'im out on that one.

Occultists through the ages have found sundry schemes and scams to add nitro to the chugging engine of the Faith Once Delivered, generally Gnostic in nature (the apocryphal, pseudipigraphal bits of first century fanfic like the "Gospel of Thomas). Gnosticism revolves around the idea that to really be (fill in spiritual preference HERE____________), you need to access the Hidden Knowledge that Few Attain. Christian faith is not alone in this problem. Jewish Qabbalism is a magical mystery religion that purports to reveal the gnosis to its followers, what's really going on in the law and the prophets! The gematria, the mystic geometry of words in the Hebrew Scriptures, is a result of this thinking. Add a computer, and an End-Timey-Wimey Rapture bunny attitude, and you get the Bible Code. Hear what Wikipedia saith:

The Bible code (Hebrew: צפנים בתנ"ך‎), also known as the Torah code, is a purported set of secret messages encoded within the Hebrew text of the Torah. This hidden code has been described as a method by which specific letters from the text can be selected to reveal an otherwise obscured message. Although Bible codes have been postulated and studied for centuries, the subject has been popularized in modern times by Michael Drosnin's book The Bible Code and the movie The Omega Code.

Careful, your shopping list may be revealed for all to see in the pages of Torah, if you choose the right skips.



The Japanese fascination with the almost Christian, the Christian Other, is of interest to me. The Santa Claus on a Cross, itself apocryphal, sort of codifies the thing. Anime series like Anno's "Neon Genesis Evangelion" (probably my favorite series. Jay, pass the Tang!) reveal the Vita-mixed understanding Japanese popular culture has of Things Christian. Christ and is the order of the day. An eeee-vil cabal, Seele (say-lay) is wishing to immanentize the Eschaton, much as the irreligious Left was worried that Reagan wanted to do, between his finger on The Button and his support of Israel. They thought that by starting Nuclear War, Pres. Reagan would force Jesus' hand and bring about the Second Coming of Christ. Sweet Hal Lindsay on a stick! But there it was.

Seele wants to bring about a more Nirvana-esque end, where everyone melts into single consciousness, utilising the Qabbalistic Angels that almost destroyed the world years before.

This does not sound like any Chick Tract I've ever heard of.

"Evangelion" includes a roster of the named angel from Jewish mystical tradition, and the Christian symbolism, down to cross-shaped explosions, fills the series, but no Atonement, no Jesus, just Qabbalism with a coat of Christian imagery, and unpleasant people doing unpleasant things. But stylishly.

I have been watching "Cyber Team in Akihabara", and it too is rife with cultic pseudo-Christian themes and imagery. The 500-year-old Christian Rosenkreuz (the founder of the Rosicrucian order), disguised as a school principal, seeks to bring about conditions which shall ensure his immortality. The ensuing assemblage of robotic battle suits and mysticism is murkier than "Evangelion's" mix of Jungian psychology and Christian/Qabbala syncretism. And it has middle schoolers as the heroines, because apparently the Japanese believe that only middle school girls are capable of saving the world.

Clearly.

 I would wistfully suggest letting the Christian faith and teaching be allowed to be what it is, with healings, works of power, faith, hope, love, forgiveness and such, rather than the freaky-deaky cultic stuff that Japan finds to be so sexiful. I mean, Superbook and Flying House, right? Just not bashing you with a 25-pound King James, but letting the life be lived, contrasted with whatever the baddies are doing. And giant robots, 'cause they're cool!

Giant robots with crosses.

Facebook kvetching

People on Etsy and other such sites who contact me asking for a free shirt for you to review...
Yes, yes, you ARE doing it to get free stuff. I know this not through mystical 'Varky mind powers, but because I am a student of human nature. You want what I have, and offer me summat of miniscule worth in return. (Six followers, seriously?) We used to call that a "Zack trade".

And learn to spell: do not use ur texting skillz to make a business offer. U look less then professional, and it makes me disinclined to accept ur kind offer.

We did not encourage begging at Hallowe'en, either.

To put it plainly, Begging is rude; it is bad form. Not the "I haven't had a bite in days, bruvva, could you spare some change...?" type of quashing your pride just to keep your (or your family's) body and spirit together. I'm talking about Covetousness Writ Large, the "OOOH! I like what Aardvark or Adorable Foxie make. I'll beg *ahem* ASK for a sample and then make a YouTube video about it how keen it is!".

Yeah, this particular Social Phenomenon is really getting to me. It's like the cheeky kids at the con who walk up and ask "What do you have that you'll give me?" (Rummages through office box for A Piece Of My Mind....) I considered tracts, but that would be off-putting, ALMOST to the level of leaving a tract AS one's tip. Remember the "Trick Black Gum" advertised in comic books? RIOT! But no....

Please bear in mind I am NOT militating against helping someone in need. This is about people with resources who want My Stuff for nuttin' (well, what they offer amounts to zero). So yeah, quit the begging. It is mooching, and it is unsightly, a pox on the interwebs.

Stop it!

Wallah

Wallah, wah-lah, wa-lah

A term which, when used, certifies the ignorance of the user.
The word you are scrabbling for is "voilà". It is Frenchie-French-French, and is "used to call attention, to express satisfaction or approval, or to suggest an appearance as if by magic" according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, which is not Frenchie-French-French, and thus may be relied upon. It is similar to "viola" but is much less unpleasant.

In other news, the word is "Dalek" (DAH-lek). Not Darlek (DAR-lek) or Daylek (DEY-lek).

To paraphrase T.S.Eliot "How unpleasant to meet Mr. Aardvark...".

From my Facebook Status

As an adjunct to my bid to become "Most Hated Christian Blogger", I have to say that I cannot take seriously teaching from anyone who writes that minimizing one's taxes is somehow bad Christian stewardship, and moneygrubbing to boot, because one does not want to pay MORE to the government so that THEY may take care of the poor.

Neither our Founder, Jesus, nor his loudest mouth Paul pointed the bony finger of indignation to either disciples OR Caesar demanding more taxation so that Rome could at least provide more bread (though perhaps fewer circuses) for the poor. Boy, howdy, the Holy Spirit sure missed a trick there! No, Jesus and His gospel teaching make clear that caring for the poor is my responsibility, and yours. A cup of cold water given in Jesus' name refreshes the recipient, and gives glory to God. Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and such shows practically the love of Christ in our obedience to His teaching, and our care for the needy. I do not have to pay a government official to handle the paperwork when I buy a homeless man a burger, or Widow Jones groceries for the week. Jesus' commands (!) do not require bureaucracy, they require our love and our obedience.

Here's an idea...re-read the Gospels again, as though you never read them before. Forget the pre-conceived notions. Forget the bad sermons, forget that Westboro Baptist exists. Forget all the things that everyone says to poison you against hearing How Love Works. Then try it.

It couldn't hoit.

Yeah, but could YOU sell Jammie Dodgers to a Dalek?

Photo by Laura Peterson

The Aardvark has returned from the Whoniverse. Miz Bonnie and her crack team of con-putter-onners have yet another triumph! Con Kasterborous, the Doctor Who convention just finished, was an utter success, with over 900 attendees (I expect this number to be corrected upward). The Dread Dormomoo her own self was in attendance with me, and we clothed a good percentage of that number!

Thanks to Bonnie, Lori, Judson, Stacey, and the cast of tens whose names fail me as I am just this side of coma. Thanks so much for all the effort and love you all have poured into the con for the fans of this wonderful series!

Caitlin Blackwood...what can this 'Vark do but ...SQUEEE! (But it is a manly squee, a Patrick Warburtonesque squee.)

Yeah, I know. I "SQUEEEd" like a schoolgirl.

What a sweet kid, and so taken by our area and people. Lady S, Wayne N., Kelly Yates and Michael "Bad" Wolff...a faboo lineup all around. Chez 'Vark shall wait with bated breath for the revelation of the amazing cast of CK2014. (I'm betting on Colin Baker's second cousin's niece!)

Thanks again, and blessings to you all!

Fade to black.

 

 

To font developers who put their work up on font sites: Stop your hubris, and forget what they taught you in school. Put it up free with no strings, or else charge for it; none of this "free for personal use" foolishness. Give it away or sell it. Period. (Note: if you want to control your font, save it to a zip disk, and store it in your Mom's basement under your bed. Making money is not eeee-vil. Make some yourself, or stay out of peoples' way that are trying to.) 

  It is also just stupid. If you think that making money is wrong, or if it chaps you that someone else MIGHT make a little with your work, charge a few bucks for the font and give the money to your favorite charity. That'll teach us naughty designers.

The repentance, she BURNS!

Since my original theater viewing of the 2004 Thunderbirds movie, I have maintained an emotional distance (except for a gut-twisting disdain) for the film. My review was : "It is a good summer kids action flick. It is not a good Thunderbirds movie." Jonathan Frakes' directorial efforts were tainted by his not having watched the original, and I resented him for it. The effects work was good, but I missed Derek Meddings. CGI, really? Jeff Tracy goes on the missions? Where's the secrecy thing? A billionaire ex-astronaut leading the charge? That's a plot hole you can drive a Sidewinder through!




Yet, this bit of summer fluff kept calling me back. (I even had my number changed!) Every year about this time, I have re-watched it, a palm-tree-filled homage to the coming summer. I had never 'til yesterday watched the DVD extras. There is a Frakes commentary track, so out of curiosity, I turned it on, and now I must repent in dust and ashes. You can hear the love that Frakes had for the movie, the general respect for the franchise, the ridiculous effort put in on the project. Babyface Riker won me over. And Sir Ben Kingsley. And Lady P. and Parker. Anthony Edwards as "Brains" Hackenbacker was more than tolerable, and the inclusion of his (SURPRISE!) son Fermat was something af a treat. Bill Paxton's over-the-top "Right Stuff" portrayal of rocket jockey Jeff Tracy kinda grates, but he's the paterfamilias in a coming-of-age actioner, so what're you gonna do? The other Tracy brothers, Manny, Moe, Jack, and Algernon, could have been portrayed as well by men's department mannequins, and are as interchangeable, and are as memorable as second week culls from an "Idol" program.

Kingsley took the role as a respite from the emotionally taxing parts he had been playing. He wished to play, and is as quirky a "Hood" as you could wish. His hench-persons Mullion and Transom are as cardboard cutout as you could wish. Sophia Miles is winning as Lady Penelope (and a dish!), and Ron Cook is frankly a sorcerous embodiment of the original Parker marionette and character.

I appreciate Hans Zimmer's score, in which he respectfully reprises Barry Gray's original theme (especially in the fun opening credits), as well as making the movie music "new".

I am hugely busy, and I must awa' to print shirts, but I felt the need to express my contrition. It ain't a bad flick. The vehicle design updates make some sense, but did Thunderbird 2 have to look like the bilious offspring of the Enterprise-D?

Heroes again

Part of the Madding Crowd making its way to the Dealers Room:

 

 The furry offerings of Adorable Foxie, my con buddy.
She, her hubby and sweet baby are such a treat to see, and they are lovely people.
Lovely people who almost sold their entire stock!!!!

 Here is a picture of a young cosplayer who was portraying
Rainbow Dash, the more athletic of the MLP-FIM crew.
I love that she has hooves. I bet that Jay does, too!!



  

Beautiful koi in a pond outside our figurative Victory Cigar. We dined at a teppanyaki restaurant (Benihana-style), Kanki on Sunday night, and it was wonderful. Ribeye done hibachi-style. DEElish. All that, and an onion volcano, too! Japanese Happy Meal.

On the way home, Riatsila and I made the pilgrimage to JR Outlet in Burlington, NC. They have a walk-in humidor...that is the entire cigar shop!  I picked up some good deals, my usual cologne/aftershave purchase (Royall Lyme this year!), and fluffy washcloths and towels to make the Dread Dormomoo happy.

I make an annual twenty-hour round trip to buy towels for my wife. Must be love! (They are good towels!)

We listened to One Second After by William Forstchen. It is the tale of life in Black Mountain, NC and environs after an EMP attack on the US. That we drove through there added piquancy to the tale. I heartily recommend it.

Hail the conquering heroes!

 Animazement has come and gone. Wowee wow-wow-wow! A record-breaker for the con (just under 9000 attendees) and a record-breaker for us! Absolutely outstanding.

I was met numerous times by customers/fans of our shirtings who said that they always hope we will be there, because we are their favorite shirt huckster! Very gratifying. The staffers at AMZ are unfailingly helpful (except for one door guard chick who would not let us in a side door. I know...just following orders. That always ends well.).

Here is another part of the Dealers Room:

We had a great time, saw old friends, made some new, saw the genius who "advised" me about my business last year. Once again, we were the heroes of the Larger Set. Tir Na Nog was a must, as well as Ragazzi's for food. We stayed at a newly-renovated Red Roof Inn, which was clean, comfortable and quiet, and was five minutes from the Convention Center.

More to come, with pictures. Blogger's picture and text combination poses problems.

Mobicon, Part the Second

So, we four adjourned to Bamboo, a Japanese steakhouse and sushi bar on Airport Blvd. here in Mobile, around the corner from the con hotel. Rachael and Margaret Ish (not Kabibble) of Mercury Retrograde Press, and Herb McCaulla his own self of Starbase Atlanta, an online fan emporium and I went for noms there, and yummy noms they were! We did the hibachi thing, and talked of many things, from
Ireland, to Scotland, to the Fairy Flag of my clan, to UFOs, and the predations of dragons. The Steak and Shrimp was accompanied by fried rice, grilled veg, AND noodles. The shrimp was not fishy in taste or smell, and redeemed the breed from my meal the other night. I indulged in Sweetwater, an Atlanta brew. We sat and noshed, and talked for two hours. Our waiter was attentive, not oppressive, and an amusing lad. The owner of the restaurant was polite and welcoming, and was genuinely happy for us to have been there. This is on the weekend planner for next Mobicon. Bamboo is a must. OH! The sushi was excellent as well.

Mobicon this year was a return to the comfortable "it was worth coming...I did better than had`I`stayed home watching TV." mode of prior years. The past two years were off the charts, so a 40% drop is not a dreadful as it sounds, but the last two years did spoil me.

My Esteemed Competition here at Mobi is in the person of Kelly Pate and his shirt biz ShirtButter.com. He has a fun angle on nerdwear, and I love it.

Note to self: rewatch "Conan the Barbarian", especially the "To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women." part.

Mobicon.

The Aardvark is in Mobile at the venerable old SF con, Mobicon. Fandom has changed a lot. Just saw a 12-13 year old girl wearing one of those fashion corsets. Stempunk gear.

Mobi  is kind of an overclocked relaxacon, a very friendly crowd. I am a fixture here, a part of the furniture. In a good way. It is a little slow this year, but that's OK. All this, and Hungry Howie's Pizza, too.

A consumer tip: if you are not happy with a transaction, do not whine and complain endlessly. Tell the person what you want done to fix it.

Quite slow, actually.

Sci Fi cons can be counted on for bad cosplay, and salacious cosplay. Sometimes they collide in a horrid Reese's Cup of Doom.

Save us from tweeny Homestuckers. Loud ones.

Overheard strident conversation: "...and a man staring at a woman's chest would be like...a woman staring at his crotch!". Had I the presence of mind, I should have suggested a burqha, Many of the feminist gripes could be cured by Sharia law. At least the shallow inconsequential ones. Amusingly, the cultural vacuum left by the postmodern abandonment of Christian mores is opening the door for far less permissive incursions. Think. How many beheadings do you remember happening ten, twenty, thirty years ago? The Reagan years, those horribly moral oppressive years, had a decided paucity of domestic decapitations. I believe that the number is "zero".

Lou Zocchi is here. Gamer supplier Lou Zocchi. Gamescience Lou Zocchi. He tells cow jokes. He is a fun guy. Plus, he designed the Zocchihedron, the 100-sided die.

Going out with Authors and Publishers for dinner. Perhaps it will rub off....The ladies of Mercury Retrograde Press are delightsome. Herb McCaulla will be joining us, and on to Bamboo, the Japanese Place of Choice. It is a Japanese Happy Meal restaurant, Benihana-style with flaming onion volcanos, but the food is excellent.

This is stream-of-consciousness, and I am losing mine. That is a zuegma.

There is a chick cosplaying Yoko from Gurren Lagann in front of my table. Distracting.

Later....

A Community Mother, and I remember Momma....

The young man who died accused of setting off the Boston Marathon bombs with his brother was not finding a place for his remains to rest until the Last Day. A mental health counselor sitting in a Virginia Starbucks heard of his insensate plight, sent out an email to the "faith community", and connected with a Muslim group. Arrangements were (legally) made, and the body was buried in a community that is unhappy with it having happened at all, including the local Muslim community.

But it's OK, because Starbucks lady invoked Jesus! She said "Jesus taught to love our enemies". Apparently this means going behind the local community to bury a person who is, based upon the news, loathed because of his murderous actions. (Insert "Godwin's Law" reference here.) Because she felt good about the idea, she has forced this on the community, with her United Methodist pastor's full support.

Jesus said I am to love my enemies. He said nothing of my forcing Rigel, or Michael, or Warren to love my (or even their) enemies. That is between each of them, Jesus, and the enemies. This woman has practiced Federalized faith, forcing what she believes to be right on an entire community, even (and especially) those who do not share her particular sensibilities.

But it's OK. She is happy with her decision.
-----------------------------------

My mother died half a century ago. Momma suffered (I choose the word precisely) a cerebral hemorrhage and left us. I was more angry than sad at the time, and within a week my living arrangements were changed, going from my stepfather (whom I adored, but who had not yet adopted me) to my father and his parents' household.

Fast forward fifty years. A month or so ago, we were having the kids over for fajitas or somesuch, and the Dread Dormomoo and I were in the kitchen talking. Something was said, about what I do not remember and suddenly, there it was. I missed Momma. Half a century later, I missed Momma, and I began to cry like a five-year-old. My sweet wife came over from the sink, enfolded me in her arms, and...was a comfort. I wept...not for long, but enough. I finally was able to grieve for the loss of my Momma, after fifty years. I have no idea what triggered it, and I had no revelations or deep experiences beyond finally grieving. No lessons, just a very strange experience.

For those who have their Mothers, a happy Mothers Day to them and to you. To those without Mothers, remember the good times and the joys, and have a happy Mothers day.

Federation Sweetness and Light?

Damage joy

There is a vast amount of schadenfreude from the proggy side. As attacks on Constitutionally-defined rights continue apace, with legal gun owners having their guns confiscated in places like NY (but not really...no-one is confiscating guns :/), those who wish to abridge my rights are having deep joy as they whittle away. As you giggle whilst infringing on what the Constitution says "shall not be infringed", remember this: as you claim new and unusual "rights" (which by its actions -like licensure- the State defines as mere privileges), if clearly defined rights like gun ownership can be whittled away by political whim, then when the "whims of change" come under future administrations, YOUR pet "rights" may be infringed, whether that be "whatever-marriage" or the right to unlimited rice pudding. A future administration may well push to abolish YOUR favorite rights, and neither Wil Wheaton's tweety angst, nor Michael Moore's fatuous pronouncements will make any difference.

You would do well to support freedom and Constitutional rights, period, rather than cherry-picking your faves. Hanging together versus hanging separately.

Here endeth the Lesson.