Breakfast for dining is cooking downstairs; there are certain advantages to living at home.

Tomorrow, trial by boredom. Friday, freedom. Saturday, the marathon that is The Marriage of Figaro; the plot, dear reader, is insultingly convoluted.

My Own Private Star Trek
U.S.S. Warspite NCC-76282
U.S.S. Seawolf NCC-76197

"I love you Marge. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. Please ask me to kill for you."

My Own Private Star Trek
U.S.S. Seawolf NCC-75999 (Defiant-class)
(partial senior staff)
Captain Pethlo Mentar - Commanding Officer
Lieutenant Shrek - Executive Officer
(Vulcan? engineer)
Lieutenant Lurin Raza - Tactical Officer/Chief of Security
Lieutenant (junior grade) Lani Rao - Operation Officer/Conn Officer
(Bolian security officer)
Ensign Solon - Science Officer
(doctor)

U.S.S. Warspite NCC-76704 (Sovereign-class)

The theme of the day: I think I would kill a man if Liz Phair asked me to. Is that wrong?

Armistice Day
I mean no disrespect to America's veterans, and I honor both the dead and the living on Memorial Day, but I acknowledge today as Armistice Day, not Veterans Day. As Kurt Vonnegut said, "Armistice Day was sacred, Veterans Day is not." At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of anno domini 1918, the Great War was over.

"Dulce Et Decorum Est"
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rear began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!---An ecstacy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.---
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,---
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
--Wilfred Owen (1893-1918), who died in combat two weeks before the end of the war

Pernicious Malaise - An AIM Sample
Me: Hey, Skeeter. I'm bored with everything. Any ideas?
Skeeter: move.
Me: Cool. Thanks!
Skeeter: :)
Skeeter: drink more?
Me: Naw, I'm trying to get less fat.
Me: Plus, as they say on Star Trek, "No effect."
Skeeter: train for the marathon:?
Me: I like it!
Me: Except for the running part.
Me: I'm sure I could walk 26 miles without incident.
Skeeter: there you go.
Skeeter: or you could do the driving marathon
Me: Le Mons?
Me: That would rule!

Then she signed off, because no one loves me and I have no friends.

Bright Future in Sales
I trimmed my sideburns so that they no longer go lower than my earlobes; I also shaved off my imperial. I feel like such a tool. Also, woke up at 7:30 this morning. That was different.

As long as I'm quoting Fountains of Wayne, and thus thinking about Fountains of Wayne, sweet merciful crap, Rachel Hunter looks amazing in the "Stacy's Mom" video!

A Time to Stand
The DVD boxset of the sixth season of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine arrived this weekend. God bless you, Ira Steven Behr.

We've taken apart and put back together the carburator. We've installed new spark plugs. We've returned the car to stock, in case the problem was in the aftermarket ignition system. We've reinstalled the original control chip in the computer. We've charged and recharged the battery, and it isn't the problem. We've checked the timing as much as we can without getting the engine running. We're going to disassemble the carburator again, because my dad has a new idea. And still the Mousemobile sits, an immobile mobile.

I'm beginning to think this is a metaphor for my life. People try to figure out the problem and get it moving, but no matter what they do it just sits there, useless. Don't mind me, I'm just bitter because this entire past week, I've been stuck in the house. Via the telephone, the mail, and ye olde Internet, I've been able to continue my job serach largely as before, but it is incredibly demoralizing to know you couldn't leave the house even if you had somewhere to go.

Two Comments on College Football
This afternoon, Oklahoma defeated Texas A&M 77-0. About that, let me say this: Fuck Bob Stoops. Yes, A&M sucks, but there is no reason under the Sun to run up the score like that. This morning, I did not have an opinion about Stoops, but now I hold in the same kind of contempt as Steve Spurrier; it is disgraceful to humiliate an opponent in that fashion. I wish Stoops a slow, agonizing death, alone and terrified, beyond hope, beyond prayer.

The nice thing about whenever Ohio State and Michigan State play each other is that no matter the result, a team I hate loses.

Everything Old is New Again... Again
Humans - "Broken Bow, Part I" et al.
Vulcans - "Broken Bow, Part I" et al.
Klingons - "Broken Bow, Part I," "Unexpected," "Sleeping Dogs," "Judgment," "Bounty," "The Expanse"
Andorians - "The Andorian Incident," "Shadows of P'Jem," "Cease Fire"
Ferengi - "Acquisition"
Romulans - "Minefield," mentioned in "Shockwave, Part II," "Dead Stop"
Tholians - "Future Tense," mentioned in "Broken Bow, Part I"
Borg - "Regeneration"
Tellarites - "Bounty," mentioned in "Dead Stop"
and now...
Nausicaans - "Fortunate Son" (TNG, "Tapestry")

The season to date...
"The Xindi"
"Anomaly"
"Extinction"
"Raijin"
"Impulse"
"Exile"
"The Shipment"
"Twilight"
I'm anxious about where this extended Xindi stroy arc is going, but as I very much enjoyed the first two seasons of Enterprise (before it was retitled Star Trek: Enterprise), I am cautiously optimistic. Plus, Scott Bakula!

The Many Faces of Jeffrey Combs
{Recurring}
Weyoun (Vorta) - Star Trek: Deep Space Nine "To the Death," et al.
Liquidator Brunt (Ferengi) - Star Trek: Deep Space Nine "Family Business," et al.
Commander Shran (Andorian) - Star Trek: Enterprise "The Andorian Incident," et al.
{Single Serving}
sleazy alien (species unknown) - Star Trek: Deep Space Nine "Meridian"
Krem (Ferengi) - Star Trek: Enterprise "Acquisition"
alien fight promoter (species unknown) - Star Trek: Voyager "Tsunkatse"

My Own Private Star Trek
U.S.S. Warspite NCC-76704
Captain J. A. Seneca - Commanding Officer
Commander Portia Matthews - Executive Officer
Lieutenant Commander Parker Wolfe - Tactical Officer/Chief of Security
Lieutenant Commander Valeria Wolfe - Operations Officer
Commander Grev - Chief Engineering Officer
Dr. (Lieutenant) Elisabeth Chang - Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Isabella Machiavelli - Counselor
Lieutenant T'Por Nemcova - Conn Officer
Lieutenant Alidar Corin - Assistant Chief of Security
Ensign Willie Suh - Security Officer

Star Trek: Enterprise
"Broken Bow, Parts I and II" - "Shockwave, Part I"
"Shockwave, Part II" - "The Expanse"
"The Xindi" - (to date) "Twilight"

Everything Old is New Again
Humans - "Broken Bow, Part I" (ST, "The Cage")
Vulcans - "Broken Bow, Part I" (ST, "The Cage")
Klingons - "Broken Bow, Part I" (ST, "Errand of Mercy")
Andorians - "The Andorian Incident" (ST, "Journey to Babel")
Ferengi (name unknown) - "Acquisition" (TNG, "The Last Outpost")
Romulans - "Minefield" (ST, "Balance of Terror")
Tholians - "Future Tense" (ST, "The Tholian Web")*
Borg (name unknown) - "Regeneration" (TNG, "Q Who?")
Tellarites - "Bounty" (ST, "Journey to Babel")*

*it is worth remarking that though both the Tholians and the Tellarites have been referred to, prior to ST:E neither had actually been on screen since the original Star Trek

Also worth mentioning is the prequel paradox. The two main adversaries on Star Trek: Enterprise are the Suliban and the Xindi; because Enterprise is the latest series, obviously neither of them has ever been featured on any of the previously produced, though later in continuity, series. This, to my mind, poses a bit of a problem. We've seen the Vulcans on Enterprise, but also later in Kirk's 23rd century and Picard's 24th. The Romulans are a threat in Enterprise's 22nd century, as well as to the 23rd and 24th; the same is true of the Klingons. The Suliban and the Xindi are terrifying enemies for Captain Archer and the crew of the NX-01, but they pose no danger to later generations. I love Enterprise, but I have to admit this nags at me.

***ZACH NIE! SPOILER ALERT***
The U.S.S. Warspite and the U.S.S. Seawolf, Captain J.A. Seneca and Captain Pethlo Mentar commanding, respectively. (In my own little Star Trek universe, the Warspite is the third Sovereign-class starship, after the Sovereign and the Enterprise-E; the Seawolf is one of the handful of Defiant-class ships we saw throughout the Dominion War.) Captain Seneca is a human, based on Yaphet Kotto's character from Homicide. Pethlo Mentar is a non-Federation citizen, a member of a species of my own invention, the Pic (yes, named after the ancient Caledonian Picts).

Wolfe or Churchill?

***ZACH NIE! SPOILER ALERT***
Star Trek: Enterprise
Enterprise NX-01
Captain Jonathan Archer - Commanding Officer
"Sub-Commander" T'Pol - Executive Officer/Science Officer
Commander Charles Tucker - Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed - Armory Officer
Engisn Hoshi Sato - Communications Officer
Ensign Travis Mayweather - Helmsman
Doctor Phlox - Medical Officer

Star Trek
U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701
Captain James T. Kirk - Commanding Officer
Commander Spock - Executive Officer/Science Officer
Dr. (Lieutenant Commander) Leonard "Bones" McCoy - Chief Medical Officer
Commander Montgomery Scott - Chief Engineering Officer
Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu - Navigator
Lieutenant Uhura - Communications Officer
Ensign Pavel Chekov - Helmsman

Star Trek: The Next Generation
U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D
Captain Jean-Luc Picard - Commanding Officer
Commander William Riker - Executive Officer
Lieutenant Commander Data - Operations Officer
Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge - Chief Engineering Officer
Dr. (Commander) Beverly Crusher - Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi - Counselor
Lieutenant Worf - Tactical Officer/Chief of Security
Ensign Wesley Crusher - Conn Officer
Dr. (Commander) Katherine Pulaski - Chief Medical Officer
(Lieutenant Natasha Yar - Tactical Officer/Chief of Security)

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Starbase Deep Space 9/U.S.S. Defiant NX-74205
Captain Benjamin Sisko - Commanding Officer
Colonel Kira Nerys - Executive Officer/Bajoran Liaison
Lieutenant Commander Worf - Strategic Operations Officer
Dr. (Lieutenant) Julian Bashir - Chief Medical Officer
Chief Petty Officer Miles O'Brien - Chief of Operations
Odo - Chief of Security
Lieutenant (junior grade) Ezri Dax - Counselor
Quark - owner, Quark's Bar and Casino
Jake Sisko
(Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax - Science Officer)

I started typing out the cast for Star Trek: Voyager, for completeness's sake, but then thought better of it. Like Star Trek V, it is a part of Star Trek history and must not be ignored, lest we not learn from our mistakes, but for today, I'm happy and not worried about the future of my beloved franchise; so, why ruin my good humor? Thus...

Star Trek: Odyssey
U.S.S. Ulysses NCC-74297
Captain Elisabeth McKenna - Commanding Officer
Commander Benicio Torres - Executive Officer
Lieutenant Commander Sovok - Tactical Officer/Chief of Security
Liuetenant Commander K'rena Singh - Chief Engineering Officer
Lieutenant Nick Locarno - Conn Officer
Lieutenant Daniel Kim - Operations Officer
Emergency Medical Hologram "Doc" - Chief Medical Officer
Doctor Kes - Medical Officer
Lieutenant (junior grade) Neelix - Security Officer

As for what comes after Enterprise, I think the two best ideas would be either Star Trek: Federation, a show set immediately after Enterprise, exploring the 22nd century, the early days of the United Federation of Planets, and the aftermath of the Earth-Romulan War, or Star Trek: New Frontier, a show set aboard the Enterprise-E or -F in the very late 24th century, fifteen or twenty five years after the Dominion War.

Last night, I showed Guy Zach Nie "The Trouble With Tribbles." Soon he'll encounter "Trials and Tribble-ations." Excellent.

Captain Yesterday. Clobberella. Super King. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

RX-78GP01 Gundam or RX-79[G] Gundam? Hmmm. The GP01 is slick, but I've got to go with the 79[G] as the mobile suit I'd want for slogging it out with an MS-14 Gelgoog. Would I want the RX-79[G] Ez8 modification? Don't mind if I do.

"It's four in the morning,
I'm tired as hell,
What am I doing
Behind the wheel?"
--The Hippos, "Asleep at the Wheel" from Forget the World

Actually, it is closer to five in the morning and I cannot sleep. I've been reading all night, but I can only read so much of The Myth of the Great War before I am overwhelmed by dispair over the tragedy of it all. A generation of young men slaughtered for no reason beyond the stupidity of their superiors, an entire continent left exhausted and ripe for the larger war that would follow. Germany lost everything; the supposed victors, Great Britain and France, gave to succeeding generations the gift of Nazi Germany. Imagine how different the world would have been had the American Expeditionary Force not saved the Allies from the German Summer Offensive of 1918. Reparations, the Weimar Republic, the Holocaust, none of it would have happened if we hadn't "saved" the liberal democracies from the "Huns." As we marched headlong into Hell, our only consolation was that we had had only the best of intentions....

The Franco-Prussian War, the Great War, six million dead because they were Juden... that hindsight in 20/20 is surely one of God's cruelest jokes.

Want to know how bad Family Guy is? Family Guy is so bad I'd rather watch Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn, and I fucking loathe Colin Quinn.

{Green Army Bag}
Man, my green army bag is awesome. A veteran of nine years on campaign, the green army bag has finally been retired like the old soldier he is. Now, as a memorial to that brave fellow, I offer you a selection of quotes from the green army bag.

"'You and your whole degenerate lifestyle will burn in the flames of Allah!' -(Skeeter)"

"Long Live the Revolution"

"'I am the lone locust of the apocalypse. Think of me when you look to the night sky.' -Zorak"

"All Hail Peter Sellers!"

"'You know what I want you to do? I want you to go upstairs to that apartment where that guy keeps playing that Barry Manilow record "Copa Cabana" over and over and over again. I want you to ring the doorbell and when he answers the door, I want you to stab him in the neck with a No. 2 pencil over and over and over again, because he must PAAAAAY!!! Chop him up and put him in the freezer and as you leave the apartment, light the place on fire!' -Denis Leary"

"Prepare the die, Earth scum!"

"Mr. Riek's Atomic Cheesecoopers!"

"I condemn the whole bloody lot of you to the fiery depths of Hades"

"Duffy: Kill it before it breeds."

"Bob Dole hates carrots! Bob Dole will scream unless he gets a cookie!! Don't spank Bob Dole!!"

"Look Moltar, I am green with E-vil."

"Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again."

"All hail Dead Mel! !Viva Mel!"

"Avt Pax; Avt Bellvm - Wilson"

"Anarchists of the world... UNITE!"

"'The World Turned Upside Down' -The British at Yorktown, 1781"

and of course

"The Rebel Black Dot Society"

When the Revolution comes, my army of genetically-engineered Klugmen will impose my will upon Mankind. Is that wrong? People keep asking me when the Revolution will begin, and I keep asking them if they know any geneticists capable of creating an army of super-strong, combat-savvy, fanatically loyal soldiers, all with the head of Jack Klugman. They invariabley say no. Well, there you go. Without my Klugmen, it will kind of be impossible to overthrow society as we know it and begin putting people up against the wall.

But when the Revolution does come, man, a lot of you are in a heap of trouble. Bon Jovi, I'm looking at you.

I hate it when my mom sleeps downstairs. (To be fair, I also hate it when my dad sleeps downstairs.) What, it's too much fucking trouble to drag yourself upstairs? Thanks, now the whole floor of the house is cut off. Why in Bog's name would anyone want to voluntarily sleep on a couch? It's a couch! You have a ginormous king-sized bed upstairs! With, you know, sheets and fucking pillows! Ahh, don't mind me, I'm just bitter about being de facto exiled upstairs... where I have to keep the volume down on my stereo because Dad is sleeping in the giant bed. *grumble grumble*

In a little while, I plan to watch the new Masterpiece Theatre version of Doctor Zhivago, almost entirely because of Keira Knightley. Is that wrong?

The Mousemobile is sick. For an unknown reason, it is quite difficult to get her to start when cold, yet once warmed up, she starts up right away (drive for an hour, park for half an hour, she starts like a dream); we disassebmled the carburator and right now we're charging the battery, but neither of these things seems to be the cause. We are working under a tarp in the driveway because our garage is unusable. It is in such a sorry state because of the Camero. For three years, my dad's beloved '86 IROC-Z has been up on blocks while he replaces the engine. I do not have any real objections to the new engine (even though it cost about $2,000 more than I had to borrow in the form of student loans), but I do object to the three fucking years. My mom has to park her car in the driveway year round, even in Winter's bitter cold; presently, we are working under a leaky tarp instead of in the dry garage; and he hasn't touched the Camero since September. Motherfucker.

I don't like working on the Mousemobile, but I acknowledge that she is a seventeen year-old p.o.s. and thus, these sorts of things are to be expected. But to have to work on my car in the rain under a tarp, all because my dad spent my college money on an engine he's too lazy to even install, well, I have tried and failed to find the words to adequately describe my anger and indignation.

Chris Perry is a football god. The man could barely stand up after each run, yet the very next play, he'd get the ball and then slash and fight for every last yard, for every last inch. Not just because my team prevailed, it was one of the most glorious events I have ever seen in sports. Today, he was the best Mankind has to offer.

"I'm just so tired of romance,
I just want to get in your pants,
I just want to meal on your stuff."
--Mu330, "Stuff" from Press

Bwa ha ha! I can't listen to this song without breaking into a huge shit-eatin' grin. So terrible, yet so funny. Press is Mu330's first album, from "way back" in 1996. Hey, we were all jerks back in '96. Especially those of us in the GB who were rocking out to Bob Dole's warm-up band...

"Bob Dole, he's Bob Dole,
Bob Dole, he's Bob Dole."

You know, I would be such a good boyfriend.

I carved me a pumpkin! For about two seconds I toyed with the idea of carving a "punk-kin," but then I realized a) I have no idea how to do that and b) it would be kind of tooly. Kind of real tooly. So, I carved a cycloptic triangular eye and a crooked smile full that old Halloween standard, uneven square teeth. In the many (six? seven?) years since I've carved a jack-o-lantern, I had forgotten how snotlike and repulsive are the insides of a pumpkin. Icky yuck eww. Still, my jack-o-lantern kicks ass!

Tonight, I asked Skeeter to marry me, but she opted to finish law school instead. This seemingly radical action on my part was prompted by my very favoritest episode of Seinfeld, during which George and Susan get engaged. The Costanza-Ross engagement was the funniest thing they ever did on the funniest show I've ever seen; everything about it makes me laugh out loud. Susan was so great and George was such a putz, and there was so very, very much scheming going on. Pure gold.

I watched two episodes of Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team this evening, since the Pistons preempted Enterprise, both parts of "The Shuddering Mountain." What people who have only seen Gundam Wing or who only have a cursory understanding of anime miss is how incredibly anti-war main continuity Gundam is. It's the old one-two punch: they reel you in with the awesome giant robots, then hit you with the ugly realities of war. People you care about die. Both sides are wrong. Nobody wins. And The 08th MS Team is perhaps the best example of this: amazing late '90s animation combined with a story that has lead some to call it the Platoon of Gundam.

Note to self: now that you've started it, finish your Christmas list!

Also, carve your stinking jack-o-lantern already!

Hey, I need to find a job, but what I want to think about is Star Wars: Clone Wars. I could think about my debts and the humiliating, disheartening process of scratching, struggling, begging for gainful employment, but that's just depressing. I don't have a job; I spend my days looking for a job. What more can I do? Nothing; so, I might as well spend my free time thinking about something I like, like Star Wars.

George Foreman's Head: "This might be the most lopsided fight since 1973, when Mohammed Ali fought an eighty-foot mechanical Joe Frasier. My memory's not what it used to be, but I believe the entire Earth was destroyed."

Rich Little's Head, imitating Howard Cosell: "Interesting if true."

I'm not celebrating Halloween this year (I could get all dressed up, but then I'd have no place to go), but were I to do so, what costume would I wear? Hmmm. My best costume ever: a gas pump. Whatever your best costume was, mine was better. For it, I won a "Most Unusual Costume" award. Not most creative or most original, most unusual. I have to believe this was a formative experience in my life....

Sometimes overreaction is the only rational response.

A short skirt.
A Gimmes shirt.
A Jones Soda.
Ain't life grand?

Words to live by, my friends. If ever I encountered a girl wearing a Gimmes shirt with a short skirt and she offered me a Jones Soda, I'd ask her to marry me as soon as I'd asked her name.
"Howdy, I'm Mike. What's your name?"
"Um, I'm Fiona."
"Fiona, will you marry me? I will honor you as long as I live."

Oh, oh no, somebody's going to find out I have a blog! Dear Lord in Heaven, no!

Hello, my name is Michael Patrick Wilson. If you are a potential employer and you found this site as a result of a websearch for my full name, congratulations. Now, the question is, do you have the right Michael Patrick Wilson? I guarantee there are quite a number of us in the Anglophonic countries. Let us assume for the time being that you have found the weblog of the right Michael Patrick Wilson and that I am, in fact, trying to gain employment with your firm/governmental agency/what have you. What can you learn about me that would impact upon my job performance?

I have a weblog; my closest friends and I operate under the name Blue Tree Whacking; I like Star Trek and Star Wars, very possibly too much; I know that when making a list with internal commas, semi-colons should be used to separate items; I was? still am? in love with a girl named Lindsay, whom I have recently begun referring to as Never Girl; I watch a lot of TV; highlights of the new season include I'm With Her and 10-8, and yes, I have always been partial to ABC; I like the books of Alistair MacLean, a claim I make having only read two of his many books, Ice Station Zebra and H.M.S. Ulysses; I am currently reading The Myth of the Great War, a work of non-fiction; my brother is the most important person in my world.

Through the Summer and continuing into this Fall I have been putting on weight. I am not pleased about this, but I have not yet taken the steps necessary to stem, much less reverse, the tide. I have a tattoo, a black skull-and-crossbones on my left forearm; if you don't want to hire me because of that, fair enough.

I do not understand why people hide. At first, I used nicknames only because they were cool, but now I use them because I've been told a number of people wish to preserve their anonymity. Several of these people, in fact the only two individuals to ever request that their names not be used, keep weblogs of their own. As the point was once made to me, posting information on something called the world wide web is a curious way of lying low.

As I type this, I am listening to The Eyeliners, "It Could Have Been You" from Sealed With a Kiss.

A short skirt.
A Gimmes shirt.
A Jones Soda.
Ain't life grand?

"Yeah, but in the year 3000, I had it all: several friends, a low-paying job, a bed in a robot's closet. I envied no man."

{Star Trek: Odyssey}
Not to boast, but this would have been a really good show. Star Trek: Odyssey created by Michael Patrick Wilson, based upon Star Trek: Voyager created by Rick Berman & Michael Piller & Jeri Taylor, based upon Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry.

Season One
"The Stars My Destination, Parts I and II" - "The Mutiny, Part I"
Season Two
"The Mutiny, Part II" - "Marooned, Part I"
Season Three
"Marooned, Part II" - "Reign of Khan, Part I"
Season Four
"Reign of Khan, Part II" - "Kingdom of Shadows, Part I"
Season Five
"Kingdom of Shadows, Part II" - "The Armada, Part I"
Season Six
"The Armada, Part II" - "The High Road, Part I"
Season Seven
"The High Road, Part II" - "Wing and a Prayer, Parts I and II"

The Players
G
Captain Elisabeth McKenna
Cmdr. Benicio Torres
Lt. Cmdr. Sovok
Lt. Cmdr. K'rena Singh
Lt. Nick Locarno
Lt. Daniel Kim
Lt. (j.g.) Neelix
Doc
Dr. Kes
Liz Locarno
Princess Rafi
Protocol Axis
Naomi and Noah Wildman
Sarah Ripley
Icheb
Annika Hansen
E
Agrippa Ramirez
Hunter Cole
Elar Korat "Cesca Naprem"
Zero-One
Felix Aeschliman
Field Marshal Ramakar
Autarch Aelia
Grak Xor
Kazon Pasha
Annorax
the Borg
the Hirogen
the Phos

The Two-Parters
"The Stars My Destination" - lost in space seventy years from home
"The Mutiny" - Hunter Cole's bid for control of the Ulysses
"Marooned" - Elar Korat and Kazon Pasha capture the Ulysses
"The Year of Hell" - Annorax bends history to his whim
"Reign of Khan" - lost in time on Earth during the Eugenics Wars
"The Killing Game" - literally hunted by the Hirogen
"Kingdom of Shadows" - the Tehlyri go on the offensive against the Borg
"The Armada" - hail hail, the gang's all here, saving the Tehlyri from the Borg
"Perfection" - lost in time, our heroes may have inadvertantly created the Borg
"The High Road" - what would have happened if Starfleet discipline hadn't been followed
"Things to Come" - in the clutches of the precognizant Presari
"Vengeance" - Hunter Cole's last hurrah
"Wing and a Prayer" - lost in space for seven years, but finally home

Finally, information about Star Wars: Clone Wars, the new micro-series on Cartoon Network! Only two weeks until the premeire, woo hoo!

This evening, after the guilty pleasure of Threat Matrix, my dad and I flipped over to the Discovery Channel's Supermassive Black Holes. Science is awesome! Man, I'm tired of the Andromeda Galaxy cramping our style; the Sun isn't supposed to burn out for four or five billion years, but the Andromeda Galaxy is going to collide with home sweet home, the Milky Way Galaxy, in three billions years, killing us all. Those bastards, I want that last billion years! You have no right to kill us off before we are swallowed up by the ever-expanding Sun! There's only one thing to do: declare all-out war on Andromeda! Come on, you apes, you want to live forever? Remember the Maine, er, Milky Way! Charge!

Those smug jackals are going to regret the day they crossed the Milky Way.

Music 1: The Best Is Yet to Come?
Work has begun on my Christmas list, and I am sad to note how many CDs I am asking for. In years past, I have had to, in a limited fashion, scrounge around for CDs. I mean, I own all of the releases by most of the bands I love (2003 releases potentially excluded). The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Reel Big Fish, MxPx, Flogging Molly, Less Than Jake, The Hippos, Green Day, New Found Glory, Mu330, The Eyeliners. With my finances being as non-existent as they are at present, though, there are a number of discs I do not possess. I have suspicions as to the quality of The Ataris' lastest album, but nonetheless I am asking for So Long, Astoria. I need MxPx's new Before Everything & After and Barenaked Ladies' Everything to Everyone; as a last hurrah before they break up, The Hippos are releasing their third album, though I do not yet know the title. The most troubling request is Blink-182's Blink-182. Without getting into the politics of self-titling an album, Take Off Your Pants and Jacket was, at best, disappointing. Aside from the fact that those chodes have sold out more thoroughly than Benedict Arnold, I'm not sure they're even a decent band anymore. But, I will ask for the new album, sight unseen, out of respect for the Dude Ranch-era Blink-182. If the album doesn't deliver as an album, though, I'm done with them. Just done.

Music 2: Music Self-Played is Happiness Self-Made
Both the Mountain of Love and K. Steeze have raised serious concerns about the feasibility of making CODENAME:Koala, the second Real Can of Yams album, this holiday season. It's been two years since Good or Suck! and something tells me if we don't make Koala now, we never will. Bitter experience has taught me to pay attention to that kind of gut feeling.

Indulging Myself
First and foremost, I am sincerely happy for the Mountain of Love and wish to congratulate him for the happiness he has found in the Bassoonatic's embrace. She is awesome and seems entirely worthy of my august brother's affections. However, simply by the nature of who I am, I cannot help but dwell upon how their relationship throughs my own loneliness into stark relief. There is a distinct difference between being alone and being lonely. I have always been alone, but at present I am also lonely. As much as anything else, I miss longing for someone. Perhaps even more than I miss Never Girl, I miss longing for Never Girl. Pining is what I do in lieu of dating, historically speaking, but right now I do not have anyone for whom to pine away pathetically. I do not need a girlfriend, I have always been and continue to be quite alright on my own, but as an added light in my life, I would like a girlfriend. For the foreseeable future, though, 'tis not to be.

Also, the Mountain really needs to get the Bassoonatic away from that Sinatra crap and into some ska.

Sha la la la la la la. Or something.

My dad asked me to read an article he'd dowloaded from the Middle East Forum, the online version, I think, of the magazine Middle East Quarterly. The thrust of the article is that Syrian President Bashar al-Assad is a sponsor of terrorism and not an ally of the United States. Wow, that's a fucking revelation. Why is the obvious supposedly worth reading if it is dressed up in academic robes? Oh, well, at least it wasn't one of his anti-Muslim hate rags.

"I know no matter what, no matter who, no matter what I do, somebody hates me."
--Reel Big Fish, "Somebody Hates Me" from Why Do They Rock So Hard?

I have been to the Ann Arbor, friends, and I have seen the Bassoonatic, the lady who hath filled the Mountain's heart with joy unlike any other, and of her I say nought but this: she is glorious.

"Wait, you don't know Brinkman?"
"Who's Brinkman?"
"Brinkman's huge."

We had a swanky dinner at the Chop House, then back to the Love Shack (the newly-minted name for the abode of the Mountain and his housemates: The All-American Boy, Sam I Am, and Tatsu the Enigma) for cake and presents. A good time was had by all. I had a delicious lobster of truth bisque, a divine swordfish steak, and some tasty garlic smashed potatoes. I cannot rightly say I know the different between "mashed" potatoes and "smashed" potatoes, but you all know me, there is no way I could have conceivably passed up anything called smashed potatoes. SMASHED!

Note to self: begin work on a Christmas list post haste.

I finished up the fifth season; as the Mountain would say, it's on now! I have to wait until mid-November for the sixth season, though, blast it all.

Roar
No one pretends to be a fan of the Lions. To be a Lions fan, you really have to be a Lions fan, because there is simply no fairweather for which you could be cheering. Today's game against the evil Cowboys... is just one of those games when nothing goes right. There's nothing for it, but to remember fondly the 8-8 days of Wayne Fontes and Bobby Ross. Looking back, those were good days, damn good days. Will things get worse before they get better? It's hard to imagine things getting worse. There is one good thing to come of all this; if nothing else, such sweet suffering teaches gratitude for what little one has.

"At the first sign of betrayal, I will kill him. But, I promise to return the body intact."
--Lieutenant Commander Worf, "In Purgatory's Shadow"

"Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle with you."

I finished up Ice Station Zebra and have now begun H.M.S. Ulysses. This prompts two thoughts: a) Alistair MacLean is a sorely underappreciated author and b) Star Trek: Odyssey would have been a great show.

I am on the third disc of DS9's fifth season; my word, the glories of which we are capable.

Within her hangers, the Scarlet Narwhal carries the Skipjack and the Tigerfish, daytrippers armed as fighters; the Atari's Revenge, a Ritoshi fighter customized as a yacht by Ming and Pewter; and the Detroit Miss, a launch modified as an armored boarder. There is another auxiliary, the Cora, also a launch, unarmed and unarmored, intended to blend in with normal civilian vessels, but this idea is in flux. Is any of this important? Not really, but to me it's fun.

Someone explain this to me: how do you argue against facts? I mean, I understand how, I've seen many many people do it, as if their unsupported, ignorant opinions could overpower the truth, but I don't understand what makes a person take such a position. I am a highly opinionated fellow, but you will find that my opinions are largely grounded in logical deduction and knowledge of real world conditions; I rarely build my house on sand, and when I am shown that I have, I concede the point. How does ignorance argue against knowledge?

p.s. Some of my friends are drooling nimrods. This does not bother me except when they speak of things about which they know nothing. When this happens, I feel as if the only rational solution is the sudden and arbitrary application of massive violence; yes, that's right, the famous brick in the face.

Quark's Bar and Casino, the Conor O'Neill's of the final frontier.

"So beautiful and yet sooo neutral."
--my favorite philosopher, Zapp Brannigan

Tyler Slade is a man of action. Tyler Slade sounds like the kind of man who should be chased down a hallway by an explosion, as the natural order of things. Tyler Slade's archnemesis is a man named Steele Hunter.

And I didn't make all of this up. Those are the names of real people; the Mountain knows Tyler Slade.

I swear, Never Girl is insane. Within a few weeks, she is moving to an apartment which she will share with her boyfriend/soon-to-be-fiance. Her phone number is changing. Though she offered it, she was reluctant to give me her new phone number, as she thought I wouldn't want to call her and thus risk speaking to her boytoy. Yes, Lindsay, I've kept talking to you though you've been dating him for over a year, but now that you're moving in together, our friendship is over. Sheesh.

Samuel Bubbles Sink Cat Wilson
Sammy's been sneezing up a storm, and some other unfortunate things; so, today I wrestled him into his carrier and took him to the vet. Two things: a) you will never hear a more lamentable sound than Sam's whining from inside his carrier; I feel like Attila the Hun every moment I don't let him out of there. b) Of course, not only did he pee all over his carrier, but when in the waiting room I let him out to comfort him, he peed on me, too. (Or is that peeed?) I hope he appreciates it, the old bastard. And now Sammy's got his paws on some wrapping paper; he should be happy as a clam for hours... until we have to orally give him medicine.

The Mountain left a few hours ago, having spent about twenty-eight hours in town. It was a short, though enjoyable visit.

"Once we hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominos will fall like a house of cards. Checkmate!"
--twenty-five star general Zapp Brannigan of the Democratic Order of Planets (DOOP)

The Mountain of Love is home! His girlfriend, Bassoonatic, called! We had spagetti for dinner! And pumpkin pie for desseret! I love pumpkin pie! Crap, I wanted to get this posted on Monday. Curses!

Once again, playing nice with others is for the birds.

The Mountain is home for "fall break." (Is a four-day weekend long enough to constitute a "break"?) Woo and hoo.

Today, I used a chairsaw and a hand sledge to take apart a shipping crate. I really quite enjoyed it. The days just fly by...

A Matter of Possible Importance
I signed on, but then had to run to the w.c.; so, I put up my away message. While I was gone, Skeeter IMed me and then signed off. I hope things are well with her.



Unimportant Shight
We won last night. I love it when I'm wrong. At the same time, I still think both Purdue and Michigan State have better than even chances of destroying us. As long as the burden of success rests on John Navarre's shoulders, we are in deep trouble.

A moment ago, I visited a blog that was playing that infernal T.A.T.U. song, and now I can't get it out of my head. Blast.

The Death of 17
The Mountain of Love's girlfriend, Stephanie, was give the awesome nickname 17. He and I were IMing tonight and it turns out 17 does not like being called "17." She thinks it's funny, but it also bothers her. Gets her goat, I suppose you could say. The Mountain sez, "If there's a way you could change it, we'd appreciate it." Excuse me for a moment, would you, I have to go puke.

Now that that's behind us, of course I will stop calling 17 17. It was never my intention to give offense and I apologize if any was given. Now of course, I am left to find a new nickname, as "Stephanie" is rather dull compared to 17, the Mountain of Love, Skeeter, Saturday Night Latham, Guy Zach Nie!, and their ilk. Ever since I stole the idea from The Watergirl, fun nicknames have become a staple of the Secret Base.

The Mountain suggested The Big Lebowski, after the movie, which she adores. In that same vein, I suggested The Nihilist; in response to this, the Mountain told me I was acting like "a little bitch." {*} He then said, "Or maybe something that has to do with the bassoon," the girl formerly known as 17 being a bassoon major. Yeah, like what? Bassoon Girl? The Bassoon Baffoon? Low Note? See, all those suck. So, the search continues.

{*} Hmm, Negative 17? Prime Number?

One last thing. "On that note, I must bid you ado." Dude, it's adieu. You know, French for goodbye? How many years of French did you take?



*These indicate moments when I chose not to say something mean, though it would have been fun.

The Glory of Nicole Bonner
An excerpt of David Schickler's "The Smoker," one of the short stories from Kissing in Manhatten:

"I sat five rows behind you and watched your silhouette. I saw you admiring the guy who played the bartender. You know, the guy from On the Waterfront."

Douglas closed his eyes. She's right, he thought. She's nineteen and she's right.

"Anyway, whether you marry me or not, this is what I want to tell you." Nicole exhaled. "It's no good, Douglas."

Douglas kept his eyes closed. He was listening.

"It's no good, the way you're living. All those weights you lift, all those miles you run, all those movies you see. It isn't right. It's lonely."

Douglas looked at her, then. He saw her curves and her temples, but something else, too, something that lived behind her eyes.

"You're a good teacher and all, but you're just killing time, Douglas. I can tell."

Bullshit, thought Douglas. Then he thought, How? How am I killing it?

"I can tell from the books you assign, the ties you wear, everything." Nicole was not chewing her hair. "You're ready, Douglas. For the woman, the one you're supposed to marry." Nicole shrugged, just a little. "And I think she's me. I've dated some guys, and I know what's around, and---well, I just know what I want."

"How?" blurted Douglas. His hands trembled on the snifter, so he put it down. He felt like he might weep, but he refused to. "How... are you saying all this?"

"I just am." Nicole gazed at her teacher.

"Are you in---" Douglas changed phrases. "Do you love me?"

Nicole petted her neck, sipped her brandy. "Look. I've got Princeton to go to. And I've got that huge heirloom library out there to read. I'm just saying that you should have a woman with you at the movies, and she should be me. I'm ready for her to be me."

I want to marry a girl like Nicole Bonner.

This morning, I had the single most amazing dream of my entire life. It was divided into two distinct settings, but randomly jumped between them. In one, I was married and attending a dinner party with my wife; the other couples were all parents, my mom and dad, the Salenskis, the Luberts, etc. In the other, I was married to the same girl, but she didn't appear. My dad, brother, and I were trying to get a flock of birds out of the house; we couldn't figure out how they were getting in. The birds had regular names and we knew what they were, but they had crazy feather patterns: one had yellow stripes and orange polka dots.

I know all this sounds like standard dream fare, but there was something absolutely extraordinary about my wife. I can remember everything about her except her face and name. I remember her clothes, her laugh, the scent of her hair. When she smiled at me, I felt like I could take on the whole Empire myself. I loved her, truly and deeply, more than I have loved any other woman in my whole life. I can't remember her name and I feel terrible, like I have lost a real person. I love her.

How did Seinfeld ever become popular? No, seriously. Friends I understand, the show is as vapid and idiotic as the average citizen, but Seinfeld was far too intelligent and funny; how it succeeded shall remain forever a mystery. If you like Friends, I both pity and admire you. Pity you for being the slack-jawed yokel you are, admire the way you have navigated so successfully through life armed with only a chestnut for a brain.

What's the deal with friendship? What is it that binds two people together? It requires time spent with the person, to become accustomed to them, but it is more than simple familiarity; and there has to be a certain spark, something between you even before you know each other well, to encourage you to spend the time necessary to get to know them. There is an unnumerable number of people with whom I have had cordial, even enjoyable, conversations, yet relatively very few have been pursued as friends. I guess I just find the whole concept odd. Extremely pleasant, but odd.

I love my friends. God knows why they put up with me, or even how.

Hail! Hail! to Michigan, the Champions of... Jack Squat
Coach Lloyd Carr, commenting on Saturday's humiliating lose to Iowa, "John Navarre played extremely well and anybody who thinks he didn't doesn't know anything about the game." If throwing 26-49 is playing "extremely well," I'd hate to see how poorly a quarterback would have to throw to raise Lloyd's ire.

It is bad enough that Coach Carr has never even tried to recruit a replacement for Navarre (I mean, the great Tom Brady only started two seasons; fucking Navarre has been sabotaging our offense for three and a half), but it is adding insult to injury for Carr to stand behind a player who is clearly not up to the job. Let me be clear about this: John Navarre would be a fine back-up, but he has never shown that he has either the physical or more importantly mental ability to be the quarterback for a big time program like Michigan. We have never beaten a ranked oppont on the road with Navarre as quarterback; thus, I stand behind my prediction of a Michigan defeat this Friday against Minnesota.

Quoting Grant Bowman, punk ass bitch of a defensive tackle, "We analyze our own game enough so we know what's going on better than any people out there, whether it's other students, media, or all those armchair quarterbacks that know how to do it better than we do." Let me submit to Mr. Bowman that he and his comrades do not know what's going on, for if they did, he would not be so brazenly arrogant after losing to both decent teams we have faced. Where does this confidence come from? Beating Notra Dame and Indiana (barely) only shows he knows how to best inferior competition; against equals, he has failed utterly. The worst part is the arrogance in the face of failure, which tells me our players have yet to internalize the deficiencies in their play. They do not think that losing is their fault. I can only hope that Friday's lose by Minesota will teach them humility, but I doubt it. It is going to be a long, sad season.

I hope the Lions start to win some games; I don't know if I can handle consistant back-to-back loses on both Saturdays and Sundays.

"I've got a flair for making you care,
You know you should hate me."
--Fountains of Wayne, "I've Got a Flair" from Fountains of Wayne

I cannot say whether or not I like Liz Phair's music, as have heard only one or two songs, but I can say this: I like Liz Phair. To my brother's consternation, I like her because she looks cruel.

Ships of Star Trek
the Enterprise
the Defiant
the Intrepid
the Pegasus
the Hood

Ships of Babylon 5
the Agamemnon
the Lexington
the Nemesis
the Damocles
the Excalibur

Ships of Andromeda
the Andromeda Ascendant
the Pax Magellanic
the Balance of Judgment
the Wrath of Achilles
the Resolution of Hector

Ships of the Space Pirates Project
the Scarlet Narwhal
the Blackdevil Angler
the Walrus of Nova Scotia
the King's Revenge
the Star of Canberra

The Goa'uld
Ra - Egyptian
Apophis - Egyptian
Hathor - Egyptian
Heru'ur - Egyptian
Set - Egyptian
Cronus - Greek
Yu -Chinese
Nirrti - Hindu
Sokar - Egyptian
Zipacna - ?
Tanith - ?
Osiris - Egyptian
Anubis - Egyptian
Baal - Canaanite

The Asgard - all Norse
Thor
Freyr
Heimdall

{A Sincere Prayer For Roy's Recovery}
"Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry"

It used to be that the BTW guys were men's men, without the need for the delicate affections of silly girls... or rather, most of us couldn't get dates. Of the five members of the BTW "high comand" - K. Steeze, the former Bald Mountain, Guy Zach Nie!, the Professor and yours truly, The Last Angry Man - only the Guy had a lady friend. However, this is no longer the case and three and a half of us now have girlfriends: Zach Nie! has his longtime love, Sarah; the Mountain of Love has the lovely 17; the Professor had to leave Vivacious D in Florida; and K. Steeze has one foot in and one foot out of a long distance relationship with Philly Liz. True to form, I am also the last single man.

In related news, Never Girl and her boyfriend are getting an apartment together. To quote her, "No, we aren't engaged or anything, we will just be living in sin." Despite her concerns, I'm really quite okay with this.

And Now, Pointless Memorization!
"Within the Serpent's Grasp" / "The Serpent's Lair"
"Out of Mind" / "Into the Fire"
"Nemesis" / "Small Victories"
"Exodus" / "Enemies"
"Revelations" / "Redemption, Parts I and II"
"Full Circle" / "Fallen" & "Homecoming"

I'm getting more used to playing nice with others, and in all honesty the Space Pirates Project has benefitted from being a group effort. However, there are still frustrations. The following is an example, about which I need to vent:

Thus he was not truly exiled, but rather stripped of rank and forced to make a living elsewhere.

How in the name of all that's good and pure is that not exile?! He wasn't asked to make a living somewhere else, he was "forced to make a living" somewhere else. Hey, genius, that's exile! Far from being voluntary, exile normally involves being "forced to make a living elsewhere," forced being the operative word. Geez Louise!

Something's wrong with my archives, grumble grumble, and I am able to access neither September nor most of August.

Michigan is going to lose to Minnesota. Michigan is going to lose to Michigan State. We will probably lose to Purdue. We will not win another road game as long as John Navarre is our quarterback. This season is already lost; we are going nowhere, except to a five- or six-loss season. The only thing we can do is bench Navarre and play Matt Gutierrez, to get him some game experience before next year. As the clock ran down, I saw Braylon Edwards on the sidelines, his head down in dejection. The other players looked upset as well. If you guys wanted to win so bad, where the fuck where you when we were outscored 30-13? If you wanted to win this game, maybe the offense should have done more than jerk off during the third quarter. It's going to be a long season, and the worst part is that Coach Carr isn't going to blame anybody except the refs, even though both our offensive coordinator and special teams coach need to be fired. Fucking hell.

Oregon and Iowa have already been lost; Minnesota and Michigan State are going to be embarrassing losses; and there are distinct opportunities to lose to both Purdue and Ohio State. Damn you, Lloyd.

Fuck Jim Boccher.

Braylon Edwards just handed Iowa an interception; though it is still the third quarter, the game is over. Final predicted score: Iowa 27, Michigan 23.

Also, we are going to get our asses kicked by Michigan State. The Spartans are going to fucking kill us.

The Crew of the Scarlet Narwhal
Jason Seaholm - captain
Seabass Vieira
Sean O'Mara
Andy Parker
Old Nick (Kcin Uen)
Zhang Ming
Pewter
Octavia Shaw
Crank

Others
Tawny Seaholm
Alexander Parker
Zhang Xiaoping - pirate king
Ghost de Castille
Rose Halifax
Virginia Halifax
Cora Uen (dearly departed)
Sextus Shaw
Septima Shaw
Anna King

Ships
the Scarlet Narwhal
the Blackdevil Angler
the Walrus of Nova Scotia
the Atari's Revenge
the Star of Canberra
the Golden Hawk

Man, this show is going to be so awesome. You may or may not have picked up on a subtle trend, but I really like creating/writing for siblings.

Hmmm, Enterprise appears to have been renamed Star Trek: Enterprise. A small change, but a subtle admission, methinks, that perhaps the "radical change in direction" the show was meant to represent has alienated more people than it has attracted. People like Star Trek; the problem with Star Trek: Voyager and Star Trek: Nemesis was not that they were Star Treks, but that they were individually weak stories.

2151-(2158) Star Trek: Enterprise

2266-2269 Star Trek

2271-2293 Star Trek: The Motion Picture - Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country

2364-2370 Star Trek: The Next Generation

2369-2375 Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

2371-2377 Star Trek: Voyager

2371-2379 Star Trek Generations - Star Trek: Nemesis

Guy Zach Nie is watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. All of it, season by season. On a lark, and because of the highest recommendations by the Mountain of Love and I, he borrowed my first season DVD set. He was instantly hooked, and is now experiencing the season-by-season rise of DS9's glory. O, how I envy him! I am so very grateful to have seen all of DS9, to have lived the saga in real time from beginning to end, but I also envy Zach the opportunity to experience it all for the first time. Normally, it is a dangerous thing to give your material possessions to Zach Nie! There is a very real chance you shan't get them back, or at least no longer entirely whole. However, we have worked out an excellent system: the Mountain is holding one of his books, A Clockwork Orange, hostage. Zach, who is presently on the third season, does not get a new season until we have the old one back, and once he is finished and all the discs have been returned safely, he will get back his novel. The best part about all this is getting to explain pieces of Star Trek history to him; outside my beloved brother and me, no one in Blue Tree Whacking cares much for Star Trek. Yesterday, I got to explain a short history of my favorite villains, the Romulans. Goody gumdrops!

Plans are being made to record the second Real Can of Yams album, CODENAME: Koala, over Thanksgiving for a Christmas show release. More news to follow once there is more news. MTD had but one release, The Murky Transport Disaster Disaster Transport Transport Disaster, so following up RCY's debut, Good or Suck!, with Koala is technically a step into uncharted territory.
{BTW - Blue Tree Whacking}
{MTD - Murky Transport Disaster}
{RCY - Real Can of Yams}
Anything good can be expressed in three initials. {SPP - Space Pirates Project}

For the time being, the erstwhile Bald Mountain shall be called the Mountain of Love. Why? Because of a lovely young lass we shall call 17, who, if all goes well, will shortly be his girlfriend.

The SPP rolls on, though we are running into the same old problem: lack of participation. Of course, I have a uniquely huge amount of freetime; so, I shouldn't criticize the guys for simply having other more pressing concerns. Nevertheless, there has been a clear decrease in the old back and forth exchange of ideas. I am trying to rein in my own imagination, for I don't want to invent something (a race, a species, a storyline) and put a lot of time into developing it only to have it vetoed, but at the same time I cannot proceed with the approval of the others because they simply aren't there. More to the point, school has started for the Professor, my idea-generating counterpart. The Guy's specialty is improving established ideas sculpting them into a better, more usable form; K. Steeze has also taken a more critique-oriented position. That's all fine and good, truly, I just miss Jon.

Zapp: "Whatever it is, I'll place wave after wave of men at your disposal. Right, men?"

(pause)

Anonymous Crewman: "You suck!"

Here's the skinny: I'm a loser. There's no way around it. I live with my parents and have not had a job for a month. My mom knows it. My dad knows it. My brother knows it. (I don't think my sister cares one way or the other, it isn't her field of interest.) But I'm cool, because I won't always be a loser. All I need is a plan, and not even a good one. My mantra, that one phrase by which I sustain myself, is from Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination, "He was one hundred and seventy days dying and not yet dead."

Apparently, Friday was religious weirdo day here in the GB. Both the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Mormons came by the house, trying to sell salvation. I'm Roman Catholic, kids, I've got all the religious weirdness I can handle, thanks. I feel bad for the Mormons, though, because for the two years of a Mormon's mission, he is not allowed to use his first name; he is referred to as Elder. For instance, Daddy Dylweed was Elder Haney. I, were I to join that odd little cult, would be Elder Wilson. Hey, jackasses, a person's first name was archaically called their Christian name. How does it serve Christ to take away a boy's Christian name for two years? Still, one of the Jehovah's Witnesses was a really hot blonde girl. I hate hot religious girls, because you can look all you want, but you can't touch unless you marry one, and that's way too high a price to pay. Don't be drawn in by her hotness, it's a trick!

I hung out with the Mountain last night. By Jove, I miss that little punk!

"Hey, Bender, where's your bathroom?"
"My bath what?"
"Your bathroom."
"My what room?
"Your bathroom."
"My what what?"

I love the fact that robots need to drink constantly in order to be sober. It never gets old.

Family history can be cool. As proof, I cite the inscription on a trophy found among my late Grandma Wilson's things:

The Simla Open Tennis Tournament
1913 Men's Doubles
1st PRIZE
Presented By
RAJA SIR HARNAM SINGH K.C.I.E.
Won By
E.R. Gray
G.M. Coates

Dr. Ernest R. Gray, a dentist, was my great-grandfather, Great Granny Gray's husband. He died long before I was born. Great Granny Gray was my closest foreign-born relative, hailing from England. Ernest Gray was an American, but lived for many years in Imperial India, where he met, courted, and married Maude Pudaphott, the future Great Granny Gray, and also where they had my recently departed Grandma Wilson (born Priscilla Gray). She was a stubborn New England Yankee, but she'd been born in India. Perhaps I am so fond of Kipling because my family is only two generations removed from the Empire?

It's quite the contradiction: I am fiercely proud of my Irish Catholicism (hell, my name is Michael Patrick), but also fiercely loyal to England. England may have turned her back on Rome, but I cannot turn my back on her. "There'll always be an England"

I am uncertain as to for what K.C.I.E. stands, but I would guess Knight Commander of the Indian Empire. I wish I was a raja. (As the BTW boys know all too well, in Risk the Black Raj is to be much feared.)

On the phone earlier, Never Girl's voice took on a protective, almost fearful tone. She seemed concerned that there are things in my life going on without her knowledge. What exactly have I done to give rise to such suspicions?

Watch the new show I'm With Her. It doesn't seem to be anything extraordinary, except for the priviledge of seeing Teri Polo each week. You don't know Teri Polo? She played Rebecca Welles on Sports Night. You don't know Sports Night? You can go to Hell.

You know, in a way I like Futurama even better than The Simpsons. It's the sense of humor from the golden age of The Simpsons (circa seasons four through nine) combined with science fiction, one of my true loves. In my eyes, it's the perfect show.

Big O
Big Duo
Big Fow

What is the secret of the Bigs? The Big O appeared in the first episode (Act:01) of The Big O, "Roger the Negotiator." Big Duo, teamed up with Schwarzwald, attacked in Act:12 "Enemy is Another Big!" Big Fow appeared in the shadows of Act:20 "Stripes," but was not properly seen and did not see action, teamed with Alex Rosewater, until this week's Act:21 "The Third Big." The Big O is great; kudos to Cartoon Network for financing the second season.

Lot's Band
Yesterday, I was listening to The Hippos. The Hippos have broken up, yet Dave Matthews Band is quite possibly the biggest band in the world. We live in a musical Sodom and it becomes harder each day to find the two good bands needed to stay the Lord's wrathful hand.

See, that's the thing about secrets: if they are central to your story, they have to work. The alien at the end of Alien? That worked, and the film has become a classic. The alien at the end of Alien Resurrection? That piece of crap failed utterly, and thus so did the film. The conspiracy at the heart of The X-Files? Didn't work, because it never fucking happened; I watched that show for years, but eventually I'd had my chain yanked one too many times and decided that the big secret wasn't worth the price of sticking around.

I love the phrase "the secret of the Star of Canberra" as a driving force behind the Space Pirates Project, but I have no idea what that secret might be. Partially because we have little idea where the show is going. It has been decided by informal majority vote to make it an infinite show, i.e. no predetermined end, but rather we'll just follow the story wherever it takes us. Okay, so where do we go? In the first season, the stars of the show - the three friends who suddenly find themselves as space pirates - wrestle with the dilemma of not wanting to hurt anyone or steal anything. They wanted the adventure of being space pirates, they didn't want to kill anybody. But if they don't toughen up they are going to get killed. How do you survive in a cutthroat situation without losing your soul? Okay, there are lots of possibilities there, we can make that work. But where do we go after that?

It is in my nature to work backwards. Once I establish a character, my natural inclination is to discover how exactly they came to be that person. You could say then that I'm better at endings than I am at beginnings. I feel a compulsion to know how it all ends and right now that's simply unknowable, which I find crushingly frustrating.

Also, you know, I wouldn't have to work on playing nice with others if I naturally played nice with others.

Having recently been exposed to the glory of Anthony Burgess's novel, this afternoon I watched the film version of A Clockwork Orange. Sweet merciful crap. The only rational reaction is the massive and sudden application of violence; however, since that hack Kubrick is dead, I have no other recourse than to desecrate his grave. A real horrorshow novella was made into a malenky stinking film, one which I sincerely wish I had never viddied. By old Bog, it was awful.

A memorable quote from Saturday, at the depths of my misery, "Never love anything, it'll only disappoint you." A perfectly valid argument could (and has, many times) been made that I should not care so deeply about college football; nay, I say, for how can one feel unreasonable joy if one does not feel unreasonable anguish? Better to live a life of extremes than risk the sterility of feeling nothing. Love with all your heart, hate with all your soul.

The Space Pirates Project is moving along nicely, with a solid creative team of The Professor, the Guy, K. Steeze, and Your Humble Narrator. I wish the Mountain would contribute, but honestly this stuff isn't his preferred bag; he's never held that much interest in "universe creation," outside of a few exceptions. We've decided upon a medium, animation, and the "cast" is falling into place at a satisfactory pace. If you are interested, please check out the Forums; ideas are always welcome, email them to me at my Yahoo account, rebelblackdot@. Both to stir the creative juices and because I greatly enjoy it, I am rereading Treasure Island. Arrrh!

As I watch this debacle, the only possible conclusion is that the Michigan defense did not spend a single minute preparing for this game. If they didn't practice this week, which they clearly didn't, what did they spend their time doing? I would like to suggest that they spend the last seven days circle jerking. So, fuck Jim Herrmann for not doing ANYTHING to prepare his squad, fuck Braylon Edwards for dropping that last pass, fuck John Navarre for playing like John Navarre, and fuck Lloyd Carr for doing such a piss-poor job of getting his kids ready for this game. This may be our only loss of the season, but only because the Big Ten is weak this year. If we're the best team in the conference, it's a pussy conference.

During Braylon Edwards's freshman season, I said he should be cut for dropping too many passes. I stand by that today. (As I type this, Navarre just threw a picture perfect interception. Good job, Johnny!)

With 10:30 left in the second quarter of the Michigan-Oregon game: Fuck. John. Navarre. Two high passes and he missed an open man on a critical third down. Also, the defense looks porous. My prediction: Oregon 34, Michigan 17.

Wait, Oregon just scored, let me revise that: Oregon 42, Michigan 13.

It's the first mildly chilly day of the Fall; so, today is of course the day my mom chose to clean the windows. It's nice and chilly in the house, allowing me to break out my very favoritest piece of cold weather clothing: Plain Black Sweatshit! I love Plain Black Sweatshirt; even if it faded from true black to gray many years ago, Plain Black Sweatshirt has not faded any more than that! So warm, so comfortable, so able to be worn every day of the week without acquiring an overpowering funk. Hurrah!

"The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go make them with your living,
And mark them with your dead."
--Rudyard Kipling, my favorite poet

Beneath the unfortunate racism in Kipling's "The White Man's Burden," there is an oft overlooked generosity. We, the self-proclaimed civilized world, have an obligation to help the less fortunate. We have an obligation to bring medicine to the sick and freedom to the oppressed. We may debate how best to improve the lot of the poor and I detest those who say we "owe" the developing world; this is not an obligation of the laws of Man, but an obligation to our own ideals, to the people we hope we can be.

Many young South Koreans wish American troops would leave their peninsula. The French oppose us often simply for opposition's sake, and to soothe their own bruised national ego. Does this mean we should have given the South Koreans over to the depraved cruelty of the North Korean Kims? Should we have left the French to rot under the iron heel of the Nazis? No, never. True virtue is its own reward, and expected thanks, even when deserved, is not a good enough reason to do the right thing.

It's three in the morning. I'm going to bed.

Sweet, I'm getting married to a freaky girl named Aisha with a Ryoko tattoo! Fun fact about Aisha: in high school, I asked her to the Prom senior year and she said yes, but the next day told me she couldn't go; so, I took good ol' Lauren G. instead.

On the Space Pirates Project, Steeze thinks I'm putting too much time and energy into the backstory at the expense of developing story arcs. I disagree. Without knowing our characters nor the world they live in, I find it impossible to say what manner of adventures might befall them.

Working on the space pirates project (until we have a title, I think I'll just call it the Space Pirates Project), I'm forced to stare right into the face of the fact that I don't work well in groups. Other people have great ideas, but it is so hard for me to accept that their ideas are better than mine, even when they are. I have to constantly rein myself in, lest I say something I don't mean. What's worse is that sooner or later we'll run into a situation where I say something incredibly cruel, because at that moment it is exactly what I mean, and I don't want to do that to my friends. So, I'm going to take this as an opportunity to work on playing nice with others.

The biggest problem we've run into is how to give our heroes possession of the Scarlet Narwhal. We're got a card game situation (an intentional parallel to the Millennium Falcon) and a police raid gone bad/chaotc situation. I'm a fan of the first, though I admit it needs work; The Professor and Steeze are fans of the police raid scenario. There are problems for both; so, we may require a third scenario. But what? We're also debating Earth's stature in the interstellar community and the number of different alien species we're dealing with, but those are pretty preliminary discussions. I've just posted my latest version of the cast on the Forums (topic: "Space Pirates!", genius) and I'm eager to see reactions.

The Mountain has yet to chime in, but that's because he is ridiculously busy during the school year.

{Deep Space Piracy For Fun and Profit}
My plea to make the space pirates a pan-BTW experience seems to be working. So far The Professor and K. Steeze, my co-creators, have contributed, as well as the Guy. Admittedly, all of this was only as a direct result of a plaintive distress call, but I am optimisitic. I have stated a topic on the BTW Forums for Kevin's comic book, Serma 6; so, I hope a healthy exchange of ideas for both projects will soon be underway.

What's in a name? Quite a bit, to my way of thinking. Yes, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but John Kennedy would not have the inflated reputation he does if he had been born Horace Oglethrorpe. (Truth be told, though, I like the name Horace, at least for a character. Or maybe the Egyptian Horus....) By the same token, I am more likely to watch a show with a respectable name like Stargate SG-1 than it's internal parody Wormhole X-treme!; so, the space pirates idea needs a good name. To this point, the only suggestions are:

Space Pirates - Kevin

Deep Space Piracy For Fun and Profit - Your Humble Narrator

To my way of thinking, I'm not certain that either is acceptable. Space Pirates is far too anonymous, it could be referring to any number of shows. And Deep Space Piracy... is, well, both long and weird. The length is a bigger problem than being weird. Weird is good. Example: Cowboy Bebop. True, bounty hunters - Bebop's protagonists - are called "cowboys" in their world and music, though not necessarily bebop, is a huge part of the show, but still that combination of words, Cowboy Bebop, is weird. Because it is, though, it makes an impression, even before you realize just how damned good the show it.

Brainfart, this is just me writing down ideas as they come to me:
Pirates of the Stars
Piracy For Amateurs
All I Ask is a Tall Ship and a Star to Steer Her By
I'm a Pirate!
Pirates of the Scarlet Narwhal
The Dread Pirate Jason?
The Stars Are For the Taking
The Voyages of the Scarlet Narwhal
Scarlet Narwhal

And now, we bring to a close our triumvirate of triumphs trumpetting the birthdays of a trio of tantalizing temptresses, Her Noir-Hearted Majesty Queen Skeeter, Mrs. Ham 'n' Eggs Blinky, and the oft overrated Never Girl: Happy Birthday!

***Seriously, when I posted the above, I thought it was Monday. The birthday is the fifteenth, not the sixteenth; I thought I was posting on the fifteenth. I'm so sorry.***

I'm taking a break from preparing my KSAOs (Knowledge, Skills, Abilities, and Other characteristics) statement for the National Archives. Under pressure from my mom, who is ignoring my lack of qualifications, I am applying for a job at the Gerald R. Ford Library in Ann Arbor. Mom, exactly what experience do I have preserving historical documents? But, as I live under her roof (and subtle iron boot), her wish is my command. Note the difference between "her wish is my command," which signifies obedience, and "as you wish," which signifies fealty.

Of course, my mom is quite right, I really do need a job. Sigh. My post-graduate year in Ann Arbor may have been financially irresponsible, but by Jove it was fun.

My sister is in Spain today, having finished up almost two weeks of holiday in Germany. When she returns to D.C. - in two more weeks - she'll start a job where she will earn over 400% more than she did last year. Meanwhile, I live with my parents.

Suicide looks better every day.

Everybody knows the Real Can of Yams smash radio hit "Lobster of Truth (Wanted Me For Him)," but you may not know the whole family of Aquatic This of Thats:

Lobster of Truth (inspired when David and Kevin say a wacked out episode of Farscape)
Salmon of Doubt (courtesy of the late great Douglas Adams)
Trout of Blame
Oyster of Deception
Jellyfish of Insecurity
Brine Shrimp of Good Intentions
Starfish of Self-Loathing
Sea Otter of Crippling Emotional Problems

Also, don't forget to check out my excellent proof THE BIG O is the Japanese BATMAN, available for your reading pleasure below.

THE BIG O is the Japanese BATMAN
The Big O, an anime produced by the fine folks at Sunrise and Bandai (the geniuses behind all things Gundam), stars Roger Smith, who is the Japanese equivalent of Batman. How can this be, you ask? Roger Smith "teams up" (his words) with the giant robot called the Big O. Bruce Wayne, the Batman, stalks the night in tights with his underwear on the outside. The Big O has laser beam eyes, hidden missiles, a compressed air megapunch, and is the giant freaking robot! Batman has a utility belt, an attitude, a small army of loyal zealots, and is the world's greatest detective. Obviously there are going to be differences, both because Bruce Wayne was created in 1939 and Roger Smith in 1999 and because there are vast cultural differences between America and Japan. But sit back, read on, and I will explain all...

Roger Smith = Bruce Wayne Bruce Wayne lives in an enormous mansion - stately Wayne Manor - joined only by his balding, loyal manservent Alfred and a succession of young sidekicks/apprentices; Roger Smith lives in an approximately twenty story former bank building joined only by his balding, loyal manservent Norman and his young sidekick/apprentice, Dororthy. Bruce Wayne, fueled by the trauma of his parents' brutal murder, fights a one-man war on crime and injustice; Roger Smith quit the inadequate Military Police when it became obvious they were tools of the Paradigm Corporation and now wages a one-man war on evil and injustice with the Big O. Batman does not use guns nor allow anyone around him to use them; Roger Smith refuses to carry a gun, despite a life of constant peril and Angel's frequent incredulity. Bruce Wayne usually wears black; as a rule of Roger Smith's house, which even the master observes, everyone wears black. The Batmobile is a powerful, black car equipped with armor and all manner of sophisticated devices; Roger Smith drives a powerful, black sedan equipped with armor, missiles, machine guns, and a sophisticated communications system. Batman carries grappling hooks and other tools in his utility belt; Roger Smith summons the Big O through his watch, which also contains a small grappling device and a laser cutting torch. Very few people know that Bruce Wayne is the Batman; very few people know that Roger Smith pilots the Big O.

R. Dorothy Wayneright = Robin Both Dick Grayson and Jason Todd, the first two Robins, were orphans, taken in by Bruce Wayne and given a purpose in life by the Batman; Dorothy is an orphan, both of her fathers - the man who built her and the man for whom she was built - having died in the first two episodes, and she has been taken in by Roger Smith, to whom she has recently expressed a desire to be, like him, a Negotiator. Robin (true of all three Robins) is a trained martial artist and detective, as much an asset to Batman as a sidekick; Dorothy, being an android, possess great strength, speed, and stamina, as well as a keen eye for observation and sharp wit, and is often a great help to Roger Smith.

Norman Burg = Alfred Pennyworth Both men are British, balding, and expert in the use of weapons and the maintenance of sophisticated machinery. Both men serve a solitary, bachelor master set upon waging a one-man campaign for justice, until a little light is brought into both masters' lives by a teenaged orphan. The only difference is that Norman has an eyepatch.

Colonel Dan Dastun = Commissioner Jim Gordon Jim Gordon's best friend is the Batman, even though he does not know it is billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne beneath the cowl; Dan Dastun shares his frustrations and suspicions with his friend Roger Smith, even though he was hurt when the latter resigned from his beloved Military Police. Gordon goes outside the official channels of the GCPD to bring Batman in an difficult investigations; Dastun consults Roger when he thinks might arise a situation beyond the powers of the Military Police, necessitating the intervention of the Big O. Gordon believes in the law, but knows that justice is more important; Dastun believes in the Military Police, but knows that protecting the citizens of Paradigm City is paramount. Both Gordon and Dastun utilize their extralegal allies when needed, but resent the fact that they are needed in the first place.

Big Ear = Oracle {This is my least favorite, but it still works.} Brabara Gordon, the first Batgirl, was paralyzed by The Joker. Determined to keep fighting the good fight, she became Oracle, the world's greatest hacker and finder of information. When Batman needs records accessed or obscure clues looked up, he turns to the seemingly omnipotent Oracle; when Roger Smith needs information, he journeys to the bar called the Speakeasy and consults the man in the back called Big Ear. We don't know where Big Ear gets his knowledge, but for a roll of twenties he'll answer your questions and point you in the right direction.

Angel = Catwoman Catwoman isn't a good girl, but neither is she a serious threat like The Joker or Two-Face; Angel isn't on Roger Smith's side, but neither is she working against him. Catwoman is a thief, but most often she steals from mobsters and rich fatcats, never from the disadvantaged; Angel works for the evil Paradigm Corporation, but she also seems to be trying to take it down from the inside. Catwoman is the only woman to whom Batman seems attracted; though Roger Smith is a connoisseur of beautiful women, no other fascinates him as does the woman who calls herself Angel.

Beck = The Penguin The Penguin is a mobster, a criminal and a murderer, but not a deranged mass murderer like the Scarecrow; Beck is an extortionist and kidnapper, but not a sociopath like Alan Gabriel. The Penguin runs his criminal empire out of a legitimate nightculb, he's a run-of-the-mill gangster with a weird nickname; even when Beck had access to the Megadeus Dorothy II, he didn't try to level the city, but rather tried to steal the printing plates from the city mint.

Schwarzwald = Two-Face Before he became Two-Face, Harvey Dent was Gotham City's District Attorney and an ally of both Jim Gordon and the Batman; before he became Schwarzwald, Michael Seebach was a reporter working to recover Paradigm City's lost memories, making him a tangental ally of Roger Smith. Depending on the flip of a coin, Two-Face acts as either a villain or a twisted version of Harvey Dent; though twisted and malevolent, Schwarzwald's goal remains the defiance of the Paradigm Corporation's wishes: the reawakening of lost memories.

Alex Rosewater = Ra's al-Ghul Ra's al-Ghul is centuries old. He controls a vast, shadowy empire dedicated to culling the human population and restoring nature; Alex Rosewater, as the head of the Paradigm Corporation, controls Paradigm City - the entire known universe - though he seems intent on reviving enough memories to destroy everyone outside the domes. Ra's al-Ghul possesses almost unique knowledge of the Lazarus Pits, the means by which he sustains his immortality; Alex Rosewater seems to possess almost unique knowledge from before Paradigm's mass amnesia of forty years ago.

Alan Gabriel = The Joker The Joker doesn't want money, power, or revenge, he just likes killing people; Alan Gabriel, who is a new character in the second season, seems to do very little other than menace Roger Smith at Rosewater's behest and execute androids. The Joker had pale skin and the world's creepiest smile; Alan Gabriel has pale skin and smiles just enough to make you uneasy.

Giant Robots and Androids
Of course, there are differences. Gotham City is the quintessential picture of American urban decay; after a cataclysm forty years ago, all memory and record of the past was erased from Paradigm City, which seems to be all that's left of the entire world. Bruce Wayne travelled the world honing his body and mind to the limits of human potential; Roger Smith teams up with a giant, heavily armed, possibly sentient robot - a Megadeus - known as the Big O. Batman's apprentices possess no super powers, but instead rely on their superb training; the unflappable R. Dorothy is a sarcastic, piano-playing android. The Batman franchise has been going for sixty-four consecutive years; the original season of The Big O was thirteen half-hour episodes. Batman is a classic piece of Americana; The Big O is a slick, stylish Japanese anime. Still, it's undeniable that Roger Smith is the Japanese Batman.

Two years. Two wars. And in very real terms, nothing has changed. Arguably, the strength of America is reflected in the pettiness of our politics. A United States Senator says that he voted only to "threaten" violence against Iraq. The President of the United States pushes for massive tax cuts at a time when we require increased defense spending and a commitment (for the first time ever) to homeland security. Why? Because our greatest threat is a private organization armed with RPGs, car bombs, and box cutters. Al Qaeda is a threat to American lives and peace of mind, but al Qaeda is not a threat to America. We forged this nation across the length and bredth a continent, and as a nation we withstood the mortal threats of the Confederacy, the Nazis, and Communism. We shall withstand this trial, fear not.

I must confess to a certain frustration with the so-called 9/11 families. I sympathize with your loss, but just because someone you loved died in a terrorist attack does not make you a policy expert. It does not make your opinion on what to do any more valid than that of anyone else. You are not special and exceptional. I am not asking you to get over your loss, I just want you to get over yourself.

God bless America.

Hey, I hope this works. By and by, I think it was the light pink hair answer that produced this result. What can I say, I've had pink hair before and it looked damn good on me.


You are Guu! You are a very strange young
girl that can eat anything, and you grant
wishes and dance the disco. You are confusing
yet wise and very powerful, but do control your
chest hair afro fetish, and try not make your
friends spaz out.


Which Jungle wa Itsumo Hale nochi Guu character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

The only thing better than Jungle wa Itsumo Hale nochi Guu is Jungle wa Itsumo Hale nochi Guu Deluxe. All together now, DELUXE!

Continuing with the triumvurate of birthdays for lovely lasses, all of them turning twenty-four: Happy Birthday! Somewhere, I hope someone is playing "1979." Birthwise, it was a hell of a year.

The new season of Enterprise premieres tonight and I am very excited. Both DS9 and The Next Generation made quantum leaps in quality during their third seasons; here's hoping that pattern continues on Enterprise. You know, one of these days I really should finish Odyssey. In more Star Trek news, Zach Nie! has returned my first season DVDs and is now plowing through DS9's second season, courtesy of the Mountain. This is excellent news.

Can someone please explain to me the big NPR hard-on for Pinochet? The man was an undeniably brutal dictator, but they speak of him as if he were the greatest villain of the 20th century. Hitler? A bad seed. Stalin? He had issues. Pol Pot? Not a nice fellow. But Augusto Pinochet? This was the worst human being who ever lived! How is it that Pinochet is a bad guy and yet Che Guaverra is treated as the gentle champion of the people? Oh, wait, because Guaverra was a communist and violence carried out in the name of left-wing ideals is somehow inexplicably palatable to the otherwise dovish folks on the left.

And now we begin a triumvirate of birthdays, those of three lovely ladies, all between today and the 15th: (in the order that I met them, not the order of their birthdays) Mrs. Blinky (circa 1985), Skeeter (1993 or 1994), and Never Girl (2001). Happy Birthday!

Trivia Night at Conor O'Neill's last night, the team of the Not-So-Bald Mountain, Guy Zach Nie, blast from the past Chris Motel (Zach's amigo), and yours truly. Wonderment of wonderments, we finished in 2nd place, the only time we've ever placed, thus winning $20! We hit up the Fleetwood and on the way to the Back Room, to sate Chris's jones for pizza, he found another $20. Holy Toledo, Batman, talk about improbability! A good time was had by all, even David, who suffered through his first and very likely last Guinness.

I reading Chuck Palahniuk - Lullaby - which means I really wish I had a hippie handy. Admitedly, solely for the purposes of smashing his face in with a brick, but still there's just never a hippie around when you need one.

K. Steeze and the Professor will soon be gone. Things around here are about to become incredibly depressing, especially since both the Mountain (Ann Arbor) and the Guy (East Lansing) are a) busy with school and b) at least an hour away.

I'm starting to hate the cat. Look, asshole, I'm trying to pet you, but I fucking won't if you walk away, sit down, and then come back two minutes later expecting me to pet you. I loved the old Sam, the surly, rat bastard of a cat who didn't have any use for us except feeding him and letting him out on demand. I loved that self-centered, cruel son of a bitch. To me, cats are supposed to be mean. That's their charm.

{Deep Space Piracy For Fun and Profit}
I keep working on the space pirate project, unsure how to proceed. Do I continue to consult with Steeze and the Professor (and possibly Zach Nie!), making all decisions by consensus? Or proceed on my own, in whatever direction strikes my fancy? Or perhaps two very similar, parallel projects, one developed with the group, the other on my own. It is critical to agonize over the details of a television show that will never get made. Critical.

{Anyway, here's an extremely preliminary cast}
Our Hero - a college kid who wins a pirate starship in a card game and realizes his lifelong dreams of instersteller raiding and pillaging; Jason or Sean, maybe...
His Best Friend - his best friend, along for the ride, probably a fat kid named Toby...
Their Other Friend - not as close a friend, but up for the adventure, he desperately wants to steal Our Hero's girlfriend, who has been left behind and all but forgotten...
Girlfriend Back Home - still in love with Our Hero, even after he becomes a pirate; Tawny, perhaps...?
Toll Booth Girl - the "victim" of the crew's first raid, who enthusiastically joins up; she's only 16, but disturbingly hot; Alex, Parker...
Old Engineer - the only remaining member of the old crew, "Old Nick" doesn't have enough money to retire with his comrades; once the master of the Scarlet Narwhal, now he's the drunkard of an engineer; the Professor describes him as essentially a seventy year-old Nick Neu...
Snobby Alien - his (his? do they have genders?) race is a bunch of uppity jerks and while he's more tolerable than most, he's quite crabby about being stuck on the ship; Lorix? maybe they're all named Lorix? naw...
Robot - what's the point of making sci-fi if you don't have a robot running around? Pewter, who really keeps the ship running...
Pilot - do you know how to fly a starship? Because I certainly don't. Aditi, a devil may care Texan beauty, maybe ex-IASA (which is the united Earth space force?)...
Indie Pirate - the shaddiest member of the crew, he's the only one who knows what's going on in the pirate world; perhaps a 1/4 Sirlakin, beneath his gruff exterior be he friend of foe...

Once one thinks about it, the chances of the crew of the Scarlet Narwhal doing any actual pillaging are pretty slim. These are, well, at least Our Hero and his two friends are, ordinary kids who stumble into something extraordinary. They aren't theives, much less bloodthirsty killers. Yet, here they are on an armed pirate ship, wanted by the law - for allegedly kidnapping Toll Booth Girl - what are they to do? I think they'd start playing Robin Hood, raiding pirates and protecting the innocent, in their own incompetent way. Plus, searching for the nigh-mythical pirate ship the Star of Canberra.

I'm bleeding from three different spots and I have grease and dirt in two of my wounds, but at least the Mousemobile has new brake pads and rear shocks.

As far as the space pirates are concerned, so far these are the three leading candidates for the name of the ship: the Scarlet Narwhal, the Bloody Narwhal, and the Jakarta Narwhal. Other names considered include the (insert modifier here) Shark or the Soyokaze. The latter is a reference to the hilarious anime The Irresponsible Captain Tylor, which takes place in space, but features no pirates.

Which spelling is preferrable for an alien race: Sirlakin or Sirlaken? As in the Sirlakin/Sirlaken Plague. I think Sirlakin. Yeah, definitely.

Ooo, Sirlakin or Sirlokin?

I want to have space pirates on the brain. The Professor, Steeze, and I came up with an embryonic idea for a TV show about space pirates. We haven't yet decided what kind of show it will be, and by "kind" I mean in what medium we'll produce the show: live action, cartoon, or anime. Personally, I think faux anime would be the best, along the lines of Teen Titans. We aren't Japanese, we don't speak any Japanese, and we are on the opposite side of the world from Nihon, all of which might be genuine obstacles to making an anime show, but I'd like it to be less episodic than American animation.

So far we have sketchy details of five characters: our protagonist, a naive, wannabe pirate; his loyal best friend; less close friend with designs on our hero's girlfriend back home; a girl they kidnap from a toll booth; a snooty, hyperintelligent alien; and the old drunkard of an engineer. The characters don't have names, backgrounds, anything. Still, there is great potential. I did have an idea for the ship, though, let's call her the Nick Neu.

The Anniversary
Mom and Dad have been married for thirty-two years today. Wow.

Who would have thought that of both my parents, my mom would be the far more annoying of the two. I've been here two weeks and she's driving me batty. You know the old song, "I want a girl just like the girl who married dear old dad"? Yeah, I'll shoot myself in the fucking head before I marry a girl remotely like my mother. She lives her life exactly how I do not want to live mine. I live at home, I'm allowed to whine about boring shite like my parents.

And now a drooling kitty is obstructing the keyboard.

Okay, I guess at seventeen there is no way Sammy comes close to qualifying as a kitty, but "a drooling kitty" sounds better than "a drooling cat." And sweet merciful crap, his drool isn't watery, it's this godawful syrupy horror. Ewwwwww.

"The Hour In 30 Seconds" words by M. Wilson
"Drink drink drink
As fast as you can!
Drink drink drink
Be you woman or man!
Sure you'll puke
That's part of the plan,
Drink drink drink
The Hour's at hand!

Drink drink drink
As fast as you can!
Drink drink drink
There'll be 'Puking, man!'
Hawai'ian Punch:
The sacred brand,
The Hour That
Nobody Wanted, man!"

If you haven't experienced The Hour That Nobody Wanted, man, you haven't lived. Nothing makes you appreciate what's really important in life like watching your brother drink four Liters of Hawai'ian Punch in ten minutes or watching little Liz Ele fight her way through the power squat.

Grand Funk Forever
Happy birthday (Wednesday, in my mind it's still Wednesdya night) to Grand Funk Railroad's Don Brewer, known to me primarily via Homer Simpson. "You kids don't know Grand Funk? The wild, shirtless lyrics of Mark Farner? The bone-rattling bass of Mel Shocker? The competent drum work of Don Brewer?"

The Steeze and I finished "Hyperintelligence," last night. Words by M. Wilson, music by K. Stermer. I'm also helping him with words to a song for which he has already written the music, "Instantation Teleportation." Brand new Real Can of Yams, coming soon to a Virgin Megastore near you.

Also, two-man Risk, even when you are victorious in three of three games, is highly unsatisfying. Of course, I bet losing three of three highly unsatisfying games is even worse.

Watch the brand-new custom-made second season of The Big O on Cartoon Network. It's not what you think, you gutter-brained cretins, it's better.

I watched a lot on TV in Ann Arbor, I watch a lot of TV in Grand Blanc. I love watching TV.