Guest Blog

Recently a good friend and fellow blogger gave me the opportunity to guest blog over at her site called Red, White, Blue ... and Green.

http://redwhiteandblueandgreen.blogspot.com

She's a very cool person who is fundamentally concerned about a number of issues, especially those which involve justice, liberty, equality and the environment.

I heartily recommend reading her blog on a regular basis and provide her with encouragement and feedback.

Thank you, Watermelon, for letting me contribute to your blog! Keep doing what you do and write about it too. We want to know!

New look, ... and an apology.

So I got to fooling around with the look of this blog. Before I knew it, an hour had passed with me going from design to design. I finally settled on this one.

Actually, I'm not completely settled. My eye was drawn to the stained glass pattern and the color palette. Maybe it's too busy. I might change it soon. If you, gentle reader has an opinion about the new design, please let me know.

I had also gone back and reread the smattering of posts contained herein. While I am in the main pleased with the content and style, I am chagrined to read what are obviously blatant typos that now leap off the screen at me as if circled in red by a tongue-clucking grade school teacher, yet somehow completely evaded my normally eagle-eyed editor. (Me.)

I am sorry. You can't see me, but I'm hanging my head and pouting my lower lip. Of the things I intend to do more often, blogging and getting the typing correct are amongst them. Thank you for your understanding. Stay tuned!

Do you want to bring down unemployment and stimulate the econonmy? Here's one way.

Legalize same-sex marriage.

It struck me the other day. There is a sure-fire way to jump start our lagging economy and for a true fiscal conservative the issue should be a no-brainer. The financial upside for making same-sex marriage legal is the weddings.

Think of how much money is spent at a typical wedding. Sources vary about what the average amount of money that gets spent on the wedding, but in 2011 the range for average is twenty-five to thirty thousand dollars. We all can grasp that it's a pretty significant sum for each and every wedding.

There is the wedding dress, and bridesmaid's and groomsmen's clothing. They need to be made or rented. Engagement and wedding rings need to be made and sold. The reception hall needs to be booked. There must be entertainment at the reception. Invitations need to be printed. Vehicles rented. Flowers to be grown, delivered and arranged. A cake needs to be baked and delivered. Caterers must be hired, and bartenders to keep the libations flowing … quite a tidy sum of money is spent and it all goes into the local economy. The happy couple have a (hopefully) perfect day, and a tidy number of local small business get a boost of much needed capital.

Now consider this. Who would throw as lavish a wedding and reception as gay couples? Say what you will, but gay men especially tend to have pretty good taste and a willingness to exhibit that good taste. They're not afraid to spend money on what they want.

It only makes sense for an economy to encourage this kind of behavior. Allowing gay men and lesbian women to legitimize their love in the eyes of the law will not decrease the number of “traditional” man-and-woman marriages, and would benefit every single local economy in America with the increased money put in circulation due to all the new weddings every year.

Chances are, these small businesses in the wedding industry will see a pretty good increase in business. It stands to reason. They would have to hire additional help to handle the increased business. Unemployment could drop. Each of these business would presumably have to pay an increased amount of taxes, which would further benefit the local and state governments of areas where they are being starved out of existence by the “something-for-nothing crowd” who hate the idea of paying ANY taxes.

I think it's pretty safe to speculate the increase in business to the wedding industry would be significant. Any increase of business to just about any industry would be a good thing right now. A good thing in any economy, but notable so in this one.

It is a sad commentary on us as a society when we allow the small-minded and withered of heart to dictate our economy the way we do. I for one know that business can be a positive contributor to our society. I know that more money flowing around means a better life for everyone.

I also know how hard it is to find someone to love in this world. How incredibly fortunate it is to have someone who loves you for you. Who am I do deny that to anyone?

Summer soundtrack 2011

Sheesh! My most profuse and humble apologies for contributing nothing here in quite a long time.

As most who know me know that I walk. A lot. Not having a car contributes to this immensely. While I walk, my brain will search my memory for songs and play them for me. I've not been trying to force any from memory. I'm content to just let them play as they come.

This year, I've taken to paying closer attention to the mental soundtrack. I've listed them, for your entertainment. I ascribe no meaning to the selection. They're just songs my brain has stored and play back unbeckoned. In alphabetical order the songs are:

A Passage to Bankok-Rush
Beauty of a Dream-Thomas Dolby
Behind Blue Eyes-The Who
Brooklyn (Owes the Charmer Under Me)-Steely Dan
Do You Close Your Eyes-Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow
Everyone's Gone to the Movies-Steely Dan
First Look-Jimmy Buffett
From the Beginning-Emerson, Lake & Palmer
Gone Daddy Gone-Violent Femmes
Grass-XTC
Hip Hug-Her-Booker T & the MGs
Hold Your Head Up-Argent
Jole Blon-Gary "U.S." Bonds
Jump-Aztec Camera
Narrakesh Express-Crosby, Stills & Nash
My Old School-Steely Dan
On Broadway-Eric Carmen
She Caught the Katy-Blues Brothers
Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours-Stevie WOnder
This Time it's for Real-Southside Johnny & the Asbury Jukes
Tube Snake Boogie-ZZ  Top
Walkin' with a Mountain-Mott the Hoople
What is Life-George Harrison

Luckily there are more great songs stored in my memory than lousy ones! If you are unfamiliar with any or all of these songs, GO FIND THEM. Listen and enjoy. If you're lucky to have a memory for music like I do, treat yourself to some long walks and listen to what your brain plays for you. You will probably be surprised.

Enjoy the rest of your summer. Make the most of it. We're only allotted a limited number of them.

You gotta love Firefighters.

Today's most controversial and absolutely outrageous news story involves a Florida minister with a room temperature IQ and a bad mustache. 

Caught up in his own overinflated sense of self-importance, Terry Jones (I will NOT use the title Reverend as there is nothing reverent about this mouth-breather) is the preacher of a tiny and unimportant ultra-right-wing Christian church in Gainesville, Florida called, ironically, the Dove World Outreach Center, is getting a lot of media attention by announcing his intention to carry on with a bonfire book burning of the Quran on September 11.

It's a sad fact of American existence that our Constitutionally guaranteed freedom of expression includes allowing stupid expressions to have the same weight as intelligent and wise ones.

In spite of the fact that many, many voices have taken up the call to give up this proposed idiotic and incendiary (intentional pun) event. In spite of the many appeals to reason, to decency, to tolerance, this moron Christian minister seems to think that his God wants him to intentionally provoke angry reactions from Muslims.

Yeah. Right. God wants you to burn books. Is there anyone out there with any education at all who thinks this is a good idea? I just can't imagine it, and I can imagine a lot. More than many people. I'm not one of the faithful of anyone's religion, but I don't think it's a good idea to burn the Bible or the Torah. I don't think it's a good idea to burn Steven King either. I don't like to read Steven King, but I don't think his work needs to be burned.

Jones has insisted that he will carry on with the planned Quran burning.

Enter the Interim Fire Chief, Gene Prince. A bonfire is illegal in Gainesville, and books are considered hazardous waste. The ink, it seems, is not healthy to breathe when burned. The Chief has stated he will not allow the burning to happen.

Gotta love those firefighters. Go get 'em boys.

Another story idea blooms.

One of my biggest personal failings is finishing a project before the idea for a new one strikes.

Since the story of Fin Port and his friends has stalled for now, I submit an excerpt from a new story. This one's a vampire story, but things are a little different for vampires in my universe.

As always, polite critique is greatly appreciated. Please allow me to introduce you to Alec Sangrey, vampire.

The Unlife and Times of Alec Sangrey

Even the neon lights hurt me now. It’s very hard to keep it together, shuffling down the sidewalk. I try to duck from shadow to shadow. I only manage to stumble.

When the Thirst is on you, your senses shatter. Everything is louder, any light breaks upon you like a tidal wave of broken glass. My mouth tastes like copper. It’s like sucking on pennies.

Being a vampire is not what you read about. It sucks, if you will pardon the pun. We’re not gods. We don’t have supernatural powers. We can’t control anyone’s mind. Hell, we can’t control our own minds. We can’t turn into bats and fly around. I really wish I could fly about now. My legs feel like tree stumps, my feet like cinder blocks. My insides roil as if snakes are fighting it out inside me, trying to consume each other.

Vampires are not given super strength, or the ability to climb walls. Not one of the supernatural abilities you may have read about are gifts of vampirism. Vampirism does not have any gifts.

It does, however, make vampires very vulnerable to light. Daylight kills us for good. It looks like a horrible way to go. I knew a female vampire once to simply walk out into the dawn. She didn’t say a word, just walked out into the horrible, keening daylight. There was no flash of sulphurous flame. No smoking and screaming. Sunlight kills a vampire from the inside out. She started shaking, then she fell and started convulsing. While I watched in terror, she levitated off the ground while the convulsions threw her around like a doll. She didn’t scream. She didn’t make a sound. She simply stared at me, her mouth open and her eyes insanely wide with fear. Almost as if she were begging me to grab her, to pull her to the safety of the doorway I was crouching in.  Finally, after an eternity, she fell to the ground and simply vanished. I scrambled as fast as I could to the darkest corner I could find and waited until night came again. I like to think the light took her soul to heaven. That it cleansed her, made her whole again and brought her to God.

Right now, I am trying to avoid finding out for myself. I can hear the sunrise. It’s about an hour off, but I can hear it like a choir of unholy angels riding a herd of mustangs beyond the horizon. The Thirst has got me so strung out and vulnerable, I want to vomit just from the smell of the sunshine coming. But there’s nothing in me to vomit, only the goddamn taste of copper, with just a touch of battery acid.

I stumble into a trio of young cowboy types. They reek of beer and cologne, tobacco and marijuana.

“I’m so-sorry.” I stutter, bending over and dry retching at their feet.

“Goddamn junkies.” Says one of them, “Don’t bother, he ain’t worth the effort.”

“Heh” I mumble to myself, “Probably the pot that mellowed them out enough to save me a beating.”

The urban cowboy didn’t know how close to correct he was. A vampire is nothing but a God damned junkie. That’s me, Alec Sangrey, junkie vampire.

To a vampire, human blood is a kind of super heroin. Whatever it is that gives someone the Thirst, once you have it, you’re never free of it. The Thirst makes human blood taste like cherry pudding and sex and heaven and rock & roll all rolled into one. It makes you wonderfully calm, completely at ease with the entire universe, God and all. It also makes a vampire very tired. It’s a magnificent high. But it can leave a vampire motionless. Unable to do anything but lay still and dream. And what wonderful dreams they are.

A lot of vampires have had the Dreams be their undoing. Some just lay there, oblivious to the passing of time and the night, to be caught by the sun next to their victim’s lifeless body. The vampire dies. The victim remains, and it’s another unsolved murder.

Smart vampires will have a lair, a safe house where they can quench their Thirst, then Dream in safety, far from the sunlight. There aren’t many smart vampires.

The bloodlust makes us stupid. It’s consuming. It gets harder to think clearly until nothing matters except making that next kill. Blood means peace, contentment, and lovely dreams.

And forget about fangs. Vampires don’t have fangs. It’s very difficult, I would imagine, for a vampire with the Thirst full on being able to actually hit a vein or artery. I’m sure I would butcher the job, and the prey would get away.

No, all vampires I have met (which haven’t been very many, we are both solitary and uncooperative) have a favorite blood letting tool. Ice-picks, scalpels and single-edged razor blades seem to be most popular, but a shard of glass, a credit card or even a nail have been known to have been used. I have a beautiful, antique stiletto. I pretend she once belonged to Lucrecia Borgia.

Also, I’m not sure if we are truly immortal. I don’t know how old I am. I don’t remember becoming a vampire, or the passing of time. I have no idea what year it is, nor how long I’m immobile when I’m Dreaming. When I’m feeling philosophical, which is usually in the time between waking from the Dreams and the onset of the Thirst, I always come to the conclusion that we can’t be immortal, by definition, because we’re already post-mortal. We’re corpses who just haven’t laid down to the final rest. I really hope that I won’t be a vampire forever. It’s Hell, it really is, inescapable, all-consuming damnation. 

This is a work of fiction and all characters are completely imaginary and represent no actual persons, living, dead or undead.

Drenched by a Wave of Nostalgia

Once upon a time, in the century past, I was forced to sell some personal items of value in order to pay my rent. Two vintage electric guitars and several dozen valuable comics.

-sigh-

Yesterday, I found this on eBay.

This is a 2007 release of my main guitar in my rocker days! It's an exact replica of the was my old SG Jr. looked when it was new. It wasn't new when I bought it for $200, but it had been treated nicely. It was the first real guitar I owned, and I made some changes that made it better. I replaced the stock trapeeze bridge with a Leo Quan Badass tunable bridge, and the old soap-bar pickup was replaced with a DiMarzio soap-bar humbucker in creme, and the old knobs gave way to gold barrel knobs.

The original tuning machines on my SG had been the open-gear, ultra cheapo ones Gibson used to offer, so I replaced them with nice chrome Schallers. I also replaced the strap pegs with Jim Dunlop Straplocks.

I bought mine when I was still in my late teens, in my first band Achilles. It was my main guitar in White Harlem, although I had bought a Stratocaster by that time, the SG was my main instrument. It was so light and easy to play. The 24.75" scale was perfect for my small hands and the mahogany neck and body had such a nice warm tone. I wish I had never sold it.

But now this one appears on eBay for $790 plus shipping!

I want it. I really want it. Even though I have a perfectly wonderful Carvin AE185 already, I still want it.

AIn't she pretty? Sweet, versatile and just about perfect. With all the pickup tonal options, Gina is all the guitar I should ever need.

But that's one of the curses of the guitar player. You always want more. I guess it's no different than anything else people geek about. You always want to collect more of the things you love. So the reasonable side of me says to be grateful for what I have. But the irrational side still wants to recapture that magic of my youth. Financially, I could swing it, but it would be a pretty hard hit and I just can't justify a luxury such as this right now.

But I really, really want this guitar.

A Very Welcome Early Spring.

It's Springtime here in the Twin Cities. It's an early one, too. An unusual one, since we had no blizzards at all during the state high school boys hockey tournament. For the first time in my memory, we had no, not one snowflake at all during the tournament last month. Or at all in March.

You can't tell me there's nothing to this global climate change.

However... we do have a nice spring at a time of year when other, warmer, states traditionally have a spring. We don't have to wait until May. The snow is all gone, I have been serenaded by cardinals every step of my daily walk to work. I have already seen two Blue Herons, on the same day, only minutes apart. The geese are back (stupid birds) and the ducks, seeking nesting spaces in our garden center again this year.

The weather is nice. I have a little cash in the bank account, thanks to our President's tax cuts for those of us making modest wages and my totally uncharacteristic filing of my taxes in early February.

I'm not running out of money before the next paycheck right now! This hasn't happened for too long a time. I ain't exactly flush, but I can eat better now. At least for awhile. I also really need to buy some shoes.

I encountered a sweet older couple, out for a walk one afternoon last week. As they got closer to me, I stepped off the sidewalk to let them have it to themselves, and the gentleman called out to me,
"Is that my favorite hardware store man?" Then he offered to shake my hand as we passed, which I gladly took. We wished each other happy afternoon and I walked the rest of the way home about six inches above the sidewalk. It feels so nice to be both recognized and appreciated.

Then yesterday, I met a new face at work. He was a big, blond guy (in Minnesota, imagine that!) named Don. It's not too surprising. We have been hiring quite a few new people for help with the garden center business boom coming our way. Nice guy, no big deal, just a new guy.

He was impressed at my customer service, I guess, because he made a point of out mentioning it to me, twice. When he said "I should take you with me." I guessed he must be a manager form another store, or a new manager in training. I quipped 'Where we goin'?"

He followed up quickly "I'd never take you from here." To which, I replied in my comfortable smartass mode "Oh, it would cost the owners a lot to get me to leave this store." Cause I don't have a car and I'm not riding the bus  for sub-par wages again, if I can help it. Not to be an assistant manager for what I know is too low a wage for the effort involved. Mm-mm, no-way.

The punchline is; Don is the District Manager. My boss' boss.

And I guess he was pretty damn impressed with me.

Wow. It's turning into a pretty good spring.  Early warmth, a little money in the bank and a job where I'm appreciated and middle-level management is impressed with me. Things are looking up.

And I have made a little more progress on the story. More on that later, when there's something worth posting.

I hope your spring is shaping up even better than mine. Thanks for reading.

Kinda Bummed

 Today, I have been waking up in my usual, day-off routine of coffee, cigarettes, mindlessly colorful tv and following links on Blogspot. I found a number of really cool blogs about stuff I like, comics, animation, pin-ups ... relishing in my inner geek.

From Steve Gaines' retro cartoon blog, I found a link to this site:

http://gobukan.blogspot.com/

It's title? Blah, Blah, Blog.

Damn!

I honestly had no idea that this site existed before about ten minutes ago!

I feel like a jerk.

I really don't want anyone to think I nabbed this guys title. It's a really cool blog, way cooler than my humble, little sprout of a blog.

I do recommend you check out this blog. I'm now a follower. Really, very cool stuff.

But what should I do? Should I change my title? I'm still not truly in love with it. I ruminated for a long time, but I've never been really satisfied.

On the other hand, it's just a freakin' blog title. In the Grand Scheme it's not really very important, is it?

damn

Okay, enough with the inner conflict. Resolve it later. I need another cup of coffee.

Which holiday is this again?

I work in retail. Hardware, to be specific. I think, as far as retail work goes, hardware has to be about the best. We carry products that people actually need. We get fewer browsers than other kinds of retail. People go to the hardware store because they have a need for something, not just trying to satisfy that innate human desire for something new and shiny.

This time of year, I try to end every encounter with a customer with "Happy Holidays." I do this for a few reasons. I do want people to enjoy this season as best as possible, considering it's cold as hell and dark for far too long every day. Winter is not good for people. It makes us cranky and depressed. It's obvious to me why every culture has some kind of celebration in the dead of winter. People need some cheering up this time of year.

Another reason for the "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" should be blindingly obvious; Christmas, Hanakkuh and Kwanza all take place in December. I can't, as a retail associate, risk putting one holiday above another. With the exception of Kwanza, I can't really tell who might be a Jew and who might be a Christian. No big deal, right? People know this, right?

Then why do I still get customers who reply with "You too." Quickly followed with "Merry Christmas?" Immediatly, I am forced to think of that living compost heap that calls itself Bill O'Reilly and his imaginary "War on Christmas." When this happens, I wish I had a really good retort that I can state my objection to the seemingly endless co-opting of everything by Christians, without being offensive. I want to say. "I'm not Christian" or "Io, Saturnalia" or "may the sun return after the Solstice." Something to let these white-bread suburbanites know that Jesus isn't the only religion out there, regardless of what Saul of Tarses has to say about it.

It bothers me, because Christmas really has become an insanely commercial entity in America, stuffed seam-rippingly full of all sorts of disparate imagery that has nothing to do with the birth of Jesus. It bothers me because nearly everyone talks about the "true meaning of Christmas" when they can't nail down what that really is.

But you sure as hell better not take Christ out of the mix.

Sometime, I wish I had a little Star of David pin to wear. Something barely noticed until the whole holiday/christmas thing comes up. Maybe it will stop them in their tracks. Maybe it might make them ... dare I hope, actually have to think about this topic. I won't though, because I'm not a Jew, and that would be demeaning.

Those who know me know that I am not a Christian. I don't have a problem with Jesus, I drank the Kool-Aid, but it didn't take. I have some issues with Christians, however. I agree with Ghandi (or was it the Dalai Lama?), when asked what he thought of  Christianity, he replied, "It sounds like a good idea. Someone should try it."

Maybe it's because northern European white people adopted it, and they are conquerors and despoilers by nature. Maybe it's the conversion/redemption factor of Christianity itself that is the root cause. I don't know, but the effect has been that Christians, for the last 2000 years, have rolled over other cultures with all the grace and tolerance of Army ants on the move. That which stands in their way will be consumed, absorbed or minimalized into extinction.

Which brings me to the twenty-first century and our fictional "War on Christmas." There is no such war, but there are those of us who are tired of having someone else's religion crammed down our throats. We don't necessarily want some manger scene, with a blonde Mary, and all white nativity cast (except for that one token black Maji) in our city holiday display. In short, THIS HOLIDAY IS NOT THE SOLE EXCLUSIVE PROPERTY OF WHITE CHRISTIANS! Get over it, you ain't the only game in town.

I guess the only real answer lies within each individual. Discover for yourself what this holiday means. Create your own definition of the "True Meaning of Christmas." I suggest you begin by reading up about Saturnalia on Wikipedia. Perhaps re-reading Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." It's a fine, inspirational story intended to get the reader to consider the less-than-humane aspects of their own lives.  O. Henry's "Gift of the Magi" is a wonderfully ironic take on gift giving.

As for the rest of the tripe and trappings, you can have it. For me, Christmas is a gauntlet to run. An obstacle-course of bad weather, trite and cloying songs and the annual anxiety of gift giving on a dental floss budget. Just hunker down, get through the cold, unyielding darkness and hang in there until Spring returns.

While I'm doing that, in the immortal words of Rodney King, "Can't we all just get along?"

Chapter one draft

“Crystalhawk laughed…” began Jori, reading from a thick, leather bound book.

“Don’t most of the old Crystalhawk tales begin with ‘Crystalhawk laughed.” Is that he ever did? Laugh?” snapped Phineas Port, who liked to be called Fin. He was having trouble hiding his annoyance about his friend’s choice of reading material.

“If you’re not going to show respect for the classic adventure tales…” Jori began scolding Fin.

“True adventure tales!” interjected their quiet friend Ename.

“Oh you too now, Ename?” Fin gave her a slow shake of his head, concealing a slight grin.

“Well, everyone says they’re true…” she trailed off.

Fin, and his best friends Jori Zeopper and Ename Jolest had been shouldering their way through the morning crowds. This had been an ongoing argument with them of late. Jori had recently become enchanted by the old Crystalhawk adventure stories. This was a sore point to Fin, but he would not tell his friends the reason for his annoyance.

In fact, their friend Fin had a secret. His real name was Phineas Portamento Crystalhawk, heir to the House Crystalhawk fortune and trading empire. He was the next Lord of one of the most influential Houses in the world. He was raised on the old tales of his infamous ancestor, the dashing thief, the stealer of hearts and gemstones, the rogue of flashing steel and narrow escapes. Fin knew them all; he knew which were true and which were fantasy, as well as the lives of the entire line of House Crystalhawk. The biographies, adventures and conquests of his entire line of ancestors had been a large bulk of his studies as a child. The family saga was the most important part of his early education. First nannies, then tutors had instructed him on his lineage every day of his young life. Since there had been a lot of ancestors, and since his most notable First Ancestor had so many tales, Fin had no taste for the popularized Crystalhawk tales.

To Fin, his ancestor wasn’t the loveable rogue of swashbuckling adventure, he was just the first in a very long line of people Fin wasn’t a part of, didn’t want to know and would never be. Fin couldn’t see himself as an adventurer, a thief, an alchemist or a canny trader. He wasn’t any one thing. He liked thinking that he couldn’t be forced into one category or another. He had varied interests, though none of them to any real depth or expertise. What he wasn’t, and never wanted to be was the latest in a very long line of aristocratic rogues and greedy, power-mad merchant emperors.

At the moment, Fin was annoyed that his best friends had become enthralled by the stories of the First Crystalhawk, but he was more annoyed that his family was making even more money with the publication of the old stories. Most of them weren’t true, and the stories that were based in fact were far from accurate and polished up for dramatic effect. The old tales had become so popular, especially with the University age crowd, that there were now rumors of a radio series based on his ancestor. None of this sat well with Fin. Even the symbol of House Crystalhawk was chased in gold on the spine of Jori’s book. It seemed that his family was inescapable.

Fin wondered silently if there were anywhere in the world that hadn’t heard of House Crystalhawk? Are there any people who don’t know anything about the adventures of his greatest ancestor or the generations of noteworthy successors? Could such a place exist, and could he find it if it did? Could Phineas Portamento Crystalhawk disappear, leaving only Fin Port, nobody? Could Fin live somewhere for the rest of his life and never hear the word Crystalhawk again?

Ename pulled him from his thoughts with her typical, gentle “ahem.”

The three stopped in Square of Madame Dree. Jori was still intently reading from his book. He looked up only when Fin tapped his shoulder.

“I have to do some shopping,” Ename gently began while pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. Her slightly droopy blue eyes were like two windows open on a summer sky. She brushed back a lock of her wavy, lavender hair. “Why don’t we meet up at the New Talisman Café at about… uh, maybe three?”

“Three? Ummm, okay.” Managed Jori, falling back into his book.

“Three’s fine, Ename, see you then. First one to arrive gets the seats, last one buys!” said Fin.

As Fin watched her slip through the morning crowd, he thought, “Why does she always make me think of a unicorn?” Without warning, Fin grabbed his friend by the shoulder of his blue coat; pulling him back he hissed, “Watch out, Jori.”

Jori, snapped back to reality, looked up to see he was about to be overrun by a small group of Steam Alchemists. As the group strode through the crowd, people pulled back to give them room to pass. There were five total, four were dressed in their usual tan, one-piece work suits. One of those carried an oversized wrench, balanced on one shoulder. All wore the dragonhead symbol of the Steam Guild on shoulder patches. Fin could see that it appeared to be the escort of a Guild Ambassador. The ambassador was an older gentleman, with his gray, receding hair pulled straight back and tied. He wore an elaborate blue overcoat, worked with gold, silver and some small gemstones glittered at his sleeves. One hand held the head of an obviously expensive walking stick, topped with a silver dragonhead. No wonder people were giving them room.

“I am always impressed, and a little surprised that the people give the Guilds such respect.” Said Jori.

“Not so surprising, really,” began Fin. After all, the Alchemist Guilds have done so much to make everyone’s lives better; provided necessary technology, establishing and maintaining the major trade routes, and making peace for about a thousand years…”

“I studied the histories of the Alchemical Guilds too,” muttered Jori. “But, it’s still pretty impressive. All that respect…uh, thanks for saving me, by the way. I half-believe they would have trod me down.”

“Look,” interjected Fin, “I’m going to see a person or two before we meet up with Ename. Don’t forget, the New Talisman at three.” He called over his shoulder at his friend. “More than friend,” Fin thought. “more like sidekick.” Since they both entered University, and since graduation they were rarely apart. Fin felt a tiny pang of guilt at being relieved to be away from Jori and Ename for a few hours. All this Crystalhawk stuff must be getting to him.

“And Jori,” Fin called to him “Don’t follow any skirts!”

As Fin turned back, he heard over his shoulder, “Ambassador Franklin! It is an truly an honor that you and your entourage should choose to visit our humble …” but the rest was lost in the ambient sounds of a city square on a warm and sunny late-morning.

 

Of course, this is original, copywritten material, dated 2009, and is owned by the author. The characters depicted represent no actual persons, and any resemblance is purely coincidental. 

Blog Action Day 2009

I've become aware that today is Blog Action Day 2009. Well, it still is for me for about thirty-three more minutes. This year's topic is global climate change. As most of us thinking people have become aware, we humans are adding to the problem of raising the average global temperature. We also realize the need for all of us to help to alleviate this problem before it's too damn late.

The biggest contribution I have made was donating my car to Volunteers of Minnesota about five years ago. I thought that perhaps some single mom would have a greater need than I for a car, so I gave it up. I have not regretted the decision since. I live about a mile and a half from my work, so I walk. Many of the incredibly nice people I work with offer me rides home nearly every day, so I walk to work, and usually get a ride home. Anywhere else I have to go, I walk, ride with someone or take the bus.

It's amazing that you can get along without a car, and living in Minneapolis, it's absolutely great not to have to scrape snow and ice from a car, pour gasoline into it or pay insurance for it. Not to mention all the greenhouse gases that have not gone into the air because of me in the last five years.

We have been using compact fluorescent light bulbs for four years, which save electricity, and therefore money and CO2 emissions. Each cfl bulb can help to keep up to a ton of carbon from going into the air per year.

I also don't eat much meat. Once or twice per week on average. It's not a vegetarian thing, just that I don't eat much at all, including meat.

Finally, I haven't flown anywhere for several years. Air travel is a huge contributer to greenhouse gas emissions, so I don't travel much either. Not that it's a noble decision I've made, I'm just too poor to travel.

So, I know there is a lot more I can do, but it's a good trend. Just what are you doing to help the climate change problem?

Worldbuilding

Well, the writing is going slowly, I'm afraid. But that's okay, since there are always real-life intrusions to blame. Work, sleep, other projects, and sheer laziness all play a role.

One thing I have been working on is a world in which those stories may or may not take place. It all started with a blog. Valerie D'Orazio's Occasional Superheroine blog to be exact. In a great series of posts wherein she describes her trials within and without the comic book bizness, she mentions a name generator. Not one in particular, just that they exist.

So, of course I hit Google, and found Seventh Sanctum. This is a site with numerous and helpful generators for a number of gaming and writing needs. Especially for someone like myself, with a comics and gaming background.

Seventh Sanctum lead me to this fractal world generator.

That's where I generated the above map of my new world. It doesn't have a name yet, just a designation: 1535565268_28_28. If you visit the site and are at all curious to see better images of my new world, simply type 1535565268 into the random seed field and set the water and ice levels to 28 each. You can view the world as a flat map, as a hemisphere or even rotating! That's a really cool feature. Sometimes I just set it up and watch the world rotate.

Once I had finally settled on a randomly generated world that pleased me, I set about to deduce some of the major features of the world. By altering the water level to about 90%, I could locate the highest mountain peaks and ranges. By using the green portions, I could mark where the major rivers might occur. With mountains and rivers, I can determine where the major cities might crop up. There is a wealth of information to be created using this wonderful generator.

At the same time, I had found the great online Steampunk comic Girl Genius. This was to prove vital to providing the main inspiration for the overall setting that any stories might find themselves growing within. If you haven't read Girl Genius, I urge you to do so right now. It is one of the finest stories I have read in the genre of comics. Brilliant writing, beautiful coloring. I can't rave enough about the story. But I won't anymore right now. Just go read the thing!

What I have mainly settled on is a world in which the primary technology is created, maintained and controlled by nine very powerful Guilds of Alchemy, which on this world, is the catch-all term for any form of science. It's a combination of technology and carefully guarded arcane knowledge. Each Guild has it's own particular form of Alchemy; steam, electricity, rocketry, flight, healing, mechanics, motors, minerals and forces. These Guilds operate independently of any government and provide their technology to all fairly. But the Guilds control the technology, and they all co-operate with each other. They have successfully kept any country or region from practicing the art of war for nearly one thousand years. They simply have all the technology, and the battle robots of the mechanics guild ensure that no war is waged.

Another reason why war has been dropped is that the Guilds ensure that trade is maintained from region to region. They tend to keep banditry and piracy to a minimum and most people at least fear the Guilds and their representatives, if not outright cheer them for their gifts of the technology that makes their lives better.

Hey, it's my world. If I don't want war, then there will be no war.

Probably.

Another aspect that I fully admit that I stole from Roger Zelazny. Gunpowder will not work on this world. Period. As well as the fact that no one has figured out that this black, smelly sludge that has been pumped up from the rocks is good for much of anything except machine lubricant.

That's about as far as I've gotten, except for having some fun generating various characters that are intended to be periferral at best, and some of the minor characters who might be involved with the main characters. People like the fellow who calls himself "The Secret Horror in the Shadows of Society," Ben Franklin's Steam Knight Corps, the Rocket Motor Legion and the Buckminster Fuller Quintet.

It's been a fun distraction, and I have always loved creating characters, scenarios and settings. I don't know how deep this well goes, but I will draw from it as long as the cool water of inspiration lasts. I will post here with any progress.

Thanks for reading!

Writing

    Writing has to be one of the hardest tasks in the human world. I remember staring at blank pages in my old, orange Sears typewriter, waiting for that magical moment of inspiration to strike. Quite  a long time ago, when I thought I was a songwriter. All of those songs have been destroyed. I remember giving it up. I thought to myself, "Until you have something worthwhile to say, stop writing songs. They're not that good."
 
Staring at a blank space on a screen is no easier.
 
A couple of weeks ago, a good friend gave me a copy of the documentary film Harlan Ellison; Dreams with Sharp Teeth. Ellison has been a favorite writer of mine almost as long as I have been able to read. If you're familiar with the man's work, or his legend, you'll know he has a reputation for ,,, shall we say, not suffering fools gladly.
 
This is a marvelous documentary, which I highly recommend to anyone who has even the remotest interest in writing and writers. Seek it out. Buy a copy. Buy another for a friend.
 
This film got me thinking about another good friend. He has a brilliant mind, and is never going to run dry of opinions. Never. However, he isn't really happy in his life situation right now. Well, in my mind, somewhere this friend and Harlan drew a parallel. I realized, this is a man who is a writer and doesn't know it yet. So, of course, when we next met, I went on and on about the movie and how much I thought that my friend is in fact, a frustrated writer. Maybe I went on a bit too much, but I couldn't help it. I wanted this nudge to take.
 
Which brings me to this blog. Hey, if I think my advice is good enough for a friend, why the hell shouldn't it apply to myself as well. I've been thinking about doing this for a bit, and my time's a wastin'. I turn fifty-one in a few days and there are probably more summers behind me than ahead now. If I want to try some writing (something I've held secretly to my breast since childhood) I better get to it. So the intent is use this as a forum to develop my chops. To get the rusty machine lubed-up, on the track and moving forward. I have no idea if I actually have anything significant to add, but we'll see. This will be a place for essays on topics that tend to loop through my head, and through conversations with friends. I want to write about things that should be, hopefully wry observations on normal life, and the occasional hard-learned life lession. I'll try to stay away from the politically inflammatory. I have grown tired of the current hack-and-slash political discourse on the internet. I will welcome all constructive responses. I will read every one, and will post any polite responses. I'm grateful for any eyes who scan these words. Hang in here with me, and you just might see a writer emerging.


Thank you in advance.