Category: Entertainment

  • What Are We Reading – July 2018

    jesse.in.mb

    Do not let my colleagues fool you with their nay-saying about James Swain’s The King Tides (Lancaster & Daniels Book 1). It is an entirely adequate beach read with a chipper pacing and zombie-like kiddie predators. To my mind, the main drawback to this book is the sponsored content, or the weird brand name dropping plus generic non-affiliated copy material–depending on if the author was paid for this or just lazy and trying to meet a word-count. It was jarring to be reading about the author’s disappointment that a kiddie diddler had smashed his phone only to be rescued by Verizon!

    “His phone was new, courtesy of his ex-girlfriend tossing the old one out of a moving car. Replacing it had been a snap. A quick trip to the Verizon store and forty-five minutes later he’d walked out with a new Droid, his contacts and apps restored. Kenny’s phone was also a Droid, and he wondered if Kenny had bought it from Verizon, which had more locations than a hamburger chain. If he had, then all his data was stored in the cloud and could be easily restored.”

    Spoilers: he also upgrades his phone from a Droid to a Moto Z2 Force during this exchange for only $40! I’m not sure that I’d recommend this book on its merits, but there are now enough people who have frog-marched themselves through it that it’s part of the current Glibertarian cultural canon. Don’t be left out!

    JW

    Have you ever read all the information that comes with penicillin prescriptions when the pharmacist fills them? Vomiting. Check! Mild skin rash. I wonder what “mild” means? Upset stomach. Check! Diarrhea. Uh-oh! I’ll be right ba….

    Brett L

    As part of an experiment in group self-abuse, I read James Swain’s The King Tides (Lancaster & Daniels Book 1). This book is terrible. Random shit not at all relevant to the plot, rogue FBI agents distributing kiddie porn (actually the most realistic part of the story), super-fit former Navy SEALs with beer guts congenital conditions that somehow didn’t disqualify them from that competitive system, kidnapping attempts of hot teen-aged white girls that the police don’t care about. I regretted reading this, even though it was free. Don’t buy it. Please do not encourage Mr. Swain to write any more books.

    In my literature entry for the month, I read Without a Country, a Turkish work translated into English. It’s an interesting family history starting with German Jews fleeing Hitler to populate Ataturk’s new university system, where hope and religious tolerance flourish, and tracks the changes in Turkish culture from the Muslim secular hope of Ataturk to the more fundamental Muslim sympathies. It was a good book. I enjoyed the writing.

    I also read Curious Tales from Chemistry: The Last Alchemist in Paris and Other Episodes by Lars Öhrström. As a chemistry geek, these are fun little tales about substances, some basic chemistry like orbitals, and history. Places, people, and things interesting to their history (like the guy tasked to steal British steel-making secrets for the Swedes). 

    Old Man With Candy

    In Jewish tradition, the Torah is divided up into sedras, roughly analogous to chapters. Each Sabbath, a sedra is read, sequentially, until at the end of a year cycle, the last sedra is finished. We have a nice holiday to celebrate it, Simchas Torah, then the process is begun again. For years, I had a similar ritual, reading a chapter at a time out of The Feynman Lectures on Physics each week until I was done the three volume set, then I’d begin again. This kept my basic physics sharp and it was, for a geek, remarkably enjoyable. The Lectures were a series of notes from a one year freshman physics sequence taught by Richard Feynman (arguably the greatest physicist of the 20th century), and transcribed and edited by two other physicists, Robert Leighton and Matthew Sands. The collaborators did a wonderful job capturing Feynman’s voice and unique style, and this set of books might be among the greatest works in the English language. Anyway, for reasons of life, I stopped doing my ritual some years back, and recently, it occurred to me that my brain suffered from the absence of Feynman’s ghost. So I started again. And it’s every bit as delightful and wonderful as I imagined, the exact opposite of dry technical books. Even if you’re not mathematically inclined, there’s so much clear and common-sense explication of how the universe works that you’ll come out of the experience much smarter than when you went in.

    I linked Volume 1 of the set because that’s the one that is likely to have the most appeal to non-physicists. It covers a sweeping range of topics; though focused on classical mechanics, Feynman talks about probability, thermodynamics, cosmology, biology, psychology, wine, and as a bonus, he offers his rather tart observations about philosophy. More so than anyone else writing about science, he is rigidly clear about what things are “this is the way it is, we can describe it, but we can’t say why it is this way” and what things are “here’s something about which we know why.”

    Strange as it may seem, we understand the distribution of matter in the interior of the sun far better than we understand the interior of the earth. What goes on inside a star is better understood than one might guess from the difficulty of having to look at a little dot of light through a telescope, because we can calculate what the atoms in the stars should do in most circumstances.

    One of the most impressive discoveries was the origin of the energy of the stars, that makes them continue to burn. One of the men who discovered this was out with his girlfriend the night after he realized that nuclear reactions must be going on in the stars in order to make them shine. She said “Look at how pretty the stars shine!” He said “Yes, and right now I am the only man in the world who knows why they shine.” She merely laughed at him. She was not impressed with being out with the only man who, at that moment, knew why stars shine. Well, it is sad to be alone, but that is the way it is in this world.

    Here’s an example of Feynman’s presentation methods, talking about the incredibly important and almost universally misunderstood topic of entropy. If you like this and the lightbulb goes on, pick up Volume 1 of the Lectures and prepare for a wild and crazy ride through the way the universe works.

    SP

    I also selected The King Tides (Lancaster & Daniels Book 1) for my free Kindle book this month since there was nothing else even remotely interesting. (How much do the authors pony up for this? I can think of no other reason for the choices.) However, being smarter than my dear Glib friends, I waited until they had all reported in, then quietly deleted it from my Kindle unopened.

    In enjoyable reading, I am swiping through How to Speak Midwestern by Edward McClelland. Things I’ve learned so far include: where Little Egypt is; what a frunchroom might be; where a gangway is located and for what it might be used; who Trixie is and what she’s up to with Chad.

    SugarFree

    I read the Joe Pitt series by Charlie Huston. Hard-boiled vampire private detective in a Manhatten ruled by vampire clans as bitchy and mean and petty as any 8th-grade clique of half-pretty girls. They are competently written. but mostly crib from various other, better detective novels for plot: the spoiled heiress with the monstrous father from The Big Sleep, the cynical operator playing all sides against each other of Red Harvest, Mike Hammer’s blase cruelty of those he has decided are guilty. The best book is the third, Half the Blood in Brooklyn, with Joe fighting off a thoroughly crazed sect of Hassidic vampires and their odd workaround for obtaining “kosher” blood. Overall, the series isn’t bad, it just also isn’t very good.

    I read/watched Ira Levin’s The Boys From Brazil. Gregory Peck as Dr. Mengele is one of the more inspired casting decisions in movie history, constantly walking the line between terrifying and absurd. The biggest knock on the movie from a production standpoint is the blue contact lens they had to put on young Adolf–they are distracting in our 1080p world.

    I also read/watched that old stand-by, The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty. Chock full of juicy Catholic guilt and atheist hate, the movie satisfies like no other. The Zodiac Killer said of the film “I saw and think ‘The Exorcist’ was the best saterical [sic] comidy [sic] that I have ever seen.”

    I made it through two chapters of The King Tides. It was terrible.

    Web Dominatrix

    I picked up a couple books this past week.

    Originals by Adam Grant and Talk like TED by Carmine Gallo. Originals is about how non-conformists influence and change the world, while Talk Like TED is about public speaking a la TED Talks.

    I have no interest in public speaking (or really doing anything that requires me showing up somewhere on someone else’s schedule), but I am into livestreaming and video marketing.

    So far Originals is really interesting. Adam Grant is a great writer and he pulls in some compelling studies and references. I haven’t cracked open Talk Like TED yet.

     

    ZARDOZ

    ZARDOZ SPEAKS TO YOU, HIS CHOSEN READING ONES. BOOKS CAUSE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE! OH AND IXNAY ONYAY ETHAY IZARDWAY OFYAY OZYAY!

    ZARDOZ HAS SPOKEN.

     

     

     

     

    Swiss Servator

    Upon recommendation (and loan) of a regular at my local, I read “The Last Days of Night” Edison vs Westinghouse (as in Thomas Alva vs George) and Nikola Tesla wanders into the picture. The story is from the point of view of Westinghouse’s young lawyer in the fight against Edison over the patent of the light bulb. Mostly based on actual events, it is a fairly interesting look into inventing, what drives/drove the inventor/inventors of the time. A little electricity learnin’ and some fancy laweryin’ too. Reads quickly, and has some very, very short little chapters…almost like the author was not sure where he was going at first.  Probably would make a decent movie if cast right. Give it whirl if you have some time.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    STEVE SMITH

    STEVE SMITH BUSY WITH CASCADIA INDEPENDENCE. HIM NOT HAVE MUCH TIME READ. JUST TREATIES AND FOREST LAW (HIM PROMINENT FOREST LAWYER!). READ MONTHLY QA REPORTS ON HIKER ENCOUNTERS TOO. BY ENCOUNTERS, MEAN RAPE.

  • What Are We Drinking; or a very special National Tequila Day Post

    Dearest Glibertariat, as some of you may know (or not), every day is a national day of something, to the point where the entire concept almost becomes empty…like my glass…right this second *runs off to fix that*, but what you need to know is that July 24th–TODAY–is national tequila day, and I can think of no better reason to clear some space off of your shelf and celebrate the pluralism of ‘murrica by drinking something that cannot be legally produced here! I have recruited the Boyfriend (henceforth TBF) to help me drink a bit of every  tequila in my home and asked the other Glibs to join in with their notes on such an effective beverage.

    My portion of this is storied including a reposado that I received as a gift for marrying a couple who met on TOS, a bottle given to me by my aunt and destroyed by a theater major 14 years ago, a couple of bottles that my roommate LOVES and a bottle of mezcal that she declines to finish, so I’ll be helpful. We’ll be rolling through easiest to hardest to drink.

    Mixed tequilas as found in jesse’s house

    Clase Azul Reposado

    • Jesse: This is too easy to drink, almost desserty. Nice notes of vanilla, kinda sweet. I can sip this at room temp and not flinch.
    • TBF: Really smooth. I’m guessing oak-barrel aged [J: we looked, he guessed right]. It’s the color of honey and has citrus, vanilla and clove notes.

    Casa Noble Reposado

    This has a special place in my heart. 15 years ago my aunt gave me this bottle, which I saved for New Year’s Eve. I brought this and a bottle of OJ, took the first sip of the tequila and gave the OJ to someone who had a bottle of vodka and looked lost…it made her night and I proceeded to drink the Casa Noble straight all night until a theater major cracked the cork into the bottle and I—most of the bottle deep at this point, and quite possibly stoned (things are fuzzy here)–proceeded to spend the night enjoying it in reverse. Because of the corking it’s sat on a shelf for years and I’m using today as an excuse to try it again.

    • TBF: You goofed. I can tell this was good once but it’s oxidized to shit. All the flavors are muted to the point of being uninteresting. I’m getting some wood and leather, it’s like drinking Jesus’s sex dungeon, but it’s incredibly smooth.
    • Jesse: [glumly] I goofed. *pours out the rest of the bottle with chunks of cork floating in it, contemplates buying a new bottle because it was that good…even at this price point.

    Espelon Reposado and Espelon Añejo (bourbon barrel aged)

    I’m pairing these together because they were similar. The reposado was a bit softer than the Añejo, which we found surprising, and the reposado was a bit simpler with the Añejo having a more complicated and more bourbon-ey profile.

    • TBF: *cracks reposado bottle open* HELLOOOO SPRING BREAK. This is all very agave, very drinkable, but not a ton of complexity.  This screams going to a frat party in your sweatpants senior year of college. This is why your roommate’s margaritas are so good. I just thought she was skilled. *tries the añejo* way more complex, more vanilla and bit harsher. The bourbon notes ask the question “Jesse, why are you making me drink tequila when you have bourbon in your house?” This is a frat party in sweatpants in KY.
    • Jesse:  If we kill off everything  below [the reposado] and make this the plastic jug tequila the world will be a better (or maybe worse) place. Still sippable but we’ve definitely stepped down a tier from the Clase Azul and Casa Noble [circa 2004]. The añejo is good, but I’m happier with the reposado *has more reposado*.

    Mezcal Embajador de Oaxaca (blanco)

    Kinda the oddball here. I hoped TBF would enjoy it since he likes Islays. My roommate decided it was undrinkable and I’ve been chipping away at it for a while.

    • TBF: This smells like nail polish and smoke. It’s like a structure fire at a nail salon off the nose. *Sips* Do moonshine distilleries explode like meth labs? You know what, they probably do. That’s what I’m getting from the flavor. Can we go back to the Clase Azul?
    • Jesse: I’m getting more smoke and less “Vietnamese women perishing in a fire”. It’s got a warm front, extremely bland middle and smoky/spicy finish. It’s surprisingly easy drinking for how smoky it is, but not particularly interesting. I’m definitely circling back to the Clase Azul.

     

  • I Fucking Love Astrology: The Horoscope for the Week of July 15

    The way that a horoscope should be cast:

    Call up the charts.  Get the rough facts in mind.  Where is what, and at what angles.  Don’t worry so much about interpretation.  Sleep on it.  Draw initial relationship markers.  Sleep on it again.  Consume some of your favorite consciousness/awareness expander (if available) and really study the charts.  Write down your revelations.  Reformat those revelations and upload.

    That’s the way I have been actually casting them lately.

    Wake up on Monday, head to work.  Engage in shouting matches with various trades, particularly emphasizing that “pre” means “before” which means those facilities should have been in place before you spent two days disconnecting, decontaminating and packing for shipment a piece of equipment that really is quite necessary for the functioning of the fab only to find that the tool has literally nothing to connect to in its new space, and why did you confirm that you were on schedule and ready to receive the equipment when I am plainly staring at a piece of completely empty RMF where there are supposed to be drains, water, CDA, nitrogen, argon, and vacuum lines? And, btw, absolutely none of this runs on 110 so why is that outlet there when the drawing clearly calls out 208?   Rinse and repeat until after stomping into the lab you find it strangely quiet because the trades don’t work on Friday.  Realize that it’s Friday and you have no recollection of Wednesday or Thursday.  Also realize that you haven’t worked on the horoscope.

    For this week, we have a BARCO alignment of Mars (retrograde)-Terra-Sol with Mercury-Venus in opposition.  Since Mars is in Aquarius, this indicates that the World cup is going to end (creepy how accurate the stars are, isn’t it?) With the Sun being part of the alignment, this indicates that the correct team is going to win.  Mercury-Venus is an odd combination to be in opposition to a Mars retrograde alignment.  In this case, we have “false news of a massacre,” either one happening and not being reported on or a false report of one happening.  It’s hard to say which, but the particularly bad part is that the news source at fault here is going to be one that is trusted.  Since I only trust glibertarians.com for my news, I’m wondering which one of TPTB is going to treat me like a dead Browns fan.  For future reference, it’s pretty generic to interpret any Mercury-opposed construction as “the news media are lying pieces of shit” and the customer will be able to confirm your predictions.

    This week, Jupiter has finally pulled its head out of its enormous Jovian ass and gone station direct.  Since it did this while in Scorpio, it means increased chances of breaking a dry spell… unless it’s with your SO.  For that to be true, we’d need a conjunction with Venus, but she’s hanging out over in Virgo.

    Venus in Virgo.  The personification of sex and The Virgin.  Astrologically, this isn’t that big of a contradiction, since Venus represents peace more than passion, the former of which is very good for Virgo.  But again, Virgo is stability and thoughtful consideration, and joining Venus is Luna, the sign of change.  When you put these together, it adds to the instability I mentioned last week that occurs to all non-Cancers during this month.

    Mercury in Leo: expect news about royalty, drama.  You want to hear bout drama?  I get a call from a union plumber installing the lines onto my VPD.  It went like this:

    “Yeah, usually I just make a flare connection but the part that the tube goes over isn’t there.”

    “That’s because it’s not a flare connection.  It’s a compression fitting.”

    “So, I just ask my boss for compression fittings?”

    “… Who is this?  You’re a plumber, right?”

    Then he wants to know if I have a catalog number for the fittings.  Then if I would buy them for him.  Then there was drama.

    Mars retrograde in Aquarius.  Not only does it signify the end of the World Cup, but it indicates a reduction in waste.  It had fucking better.  I’m paying these assholes $79/hour base, plus the various levels of “supervisors,” etc.

    I have nothing creative to add.  All of my creativity is dedicated to torture fantasies of the people to whom I am paying vast sums of money to do crap work.  But here’s some relevant zodiac music:

     

  • I Fucking Love Astrology: the Horoscope for July 8th

    This is looking to be a pretty good week all around, with one possible exception.

    The Sun in Cancer enhances preventative measures you may be taking this week, and it will help with emotional stability.  Not I’m saying that you should slack off on your meds (This horoscope has not been approved by the FDA to diagnose or treat any condition or illness).  Leo is enjoying a conjunction of Mercury and Venus.  Leos should look forward to good news and good lovin’.  The moon in Taurus brings additional strength and resiliency to your romantic and domestic relationships.  The potty-training Glibs will see real progress.  Now we get to the wild card in the sky:  Mars in Aquarius.  It’s been a clear and obvious (honestly, waaay to literal for me to ever give to a paying customer) sign of the World Cup.  But now Mars has gone retrograde.  It’s going the wrong way.  It’s going up the down staircase.  It’s going in through the out door… you get the picture.  Mars, much like the oiled up warriors of 300 that are used to represent it in popular media, is just brimming with “subtext.”  So how do we apply this fact?  Obviously, someone is going to be coming out.  Someone is going to be a blazing beacon of tabloid fodder.  I’m afraid I can’t see any names in the stars, otherwise I’d make a killing at Ladbrokers.

    Mars is really happy to see you

    As for alignments, there aren’t any.  The remnants of that double-opposition construct from last week are still there, so there may be some continuing reverberations from it, but neither arm is aligned any more.

     

  • I Mustn’t be Late! The Horoscope for 1 July

    You were hoping for Grace Slick, perhaps?
    What, wrong one?

    So this one is last minute because of two things:  work has begun ramping up into the five weeks of transferring operations between the two labs which means new and exciting incompatiblities (of every conceivable type) being discovered, and also the freeware software I use to generate my star charts borked out.  Hey, don’t blame me for being Jewish Scottish Miserly Frugal economically minded.  The geocentric stuff is easy to find substitutes for, but it took a while to get some heliocentric views.

    And I’m glad I did, because this week is a doozy:

    Strategic ambiguity ftw!
    Yeah, he really is

    We’ve got a construction that takes in five of the seven planets, with neither arm being major to the other:  Sol-Mercury-Venus and Mercury-Earth-Mars in mutual opposition.  That first bit is a sign of good gossip, but when it’s in opposition with the second it means that there is going to be a major blowup on the homefront caused by news of someone’s love life.  Now, the one bit of consolation if it happens to be YOUR love life news that is at issue is that one of these conflagrations, is that Saturn is not part of this construction.  So, the relationship will not be ending.  Actually, since Saturn is currently retrograde right now, adding it to the construction would give signs of a Medea situation, but it’s not so it’s not.

    So, on to the conjunctive news:

    God, I hope not.
    You’ve got three more weeks of this joke to come.

    This is the first full week of the Sun in Cancer, so be sure to wear at least SPF45 and get any suspicious spots checked for melanoma.  You don’t want to end up like John McCain do you?  Actually, this is one of those uncomfortable situations astrology-wise.  For people identified with (born in) Cancer, having the sun there is good.   But with Cancer being a water sign and the sun being about as fiery an object as there is, the juxtaposition makes the rest of the sky kind of grumpy and on edge.  Enjoy your July!

    Leo is getting some love, and it’s not even its turn in the sun yet.  This week it’s got a conjunction of Mercury with Venus, so Gryffindors can expect good news, good lovin’, and their cats will only excrete into their litterboxes.

    You know what?  Unless I tell you otherwise just assume that Jupiter retrograde is in Scorpio and Saturn retrograde is in Capricorn.  Got it?  Cool.

    In sports news, this week’s World Cup matches will feature an upset, as the moon moves into Aquarius along with Mars.  Wel, I’m reading it as an upset.  Technically it’s just “disorder/chaos/change” so riots or a flash flood would also be appropriate.

     

  • What Are We Reading – June 2018

    Read a book, read a book, read a motherfuckin’ book.

    Old Man With Candy

    I always have a geek book at hand, and this past month, my constant companion has been Electrochemical Methods: Fundamentals and Applications  mostly because I have suddenly been given a new role at work which requires some of this expertise, and there’s not much opportunity to fake it. I was immediately and uncomfortably made aware of how much physical chemistry I have forgotten in the mmmmph years since I was in college. Well, at least I remembered the Nernst equation.

    A discussion with SugarFree got me to pick up my copy of The Eyre Affair, the first of the Thursday Next series. I bought this the last time I was in England visiting my favorite author- he and I went book shopping and he urged me to give Jasper Fforde a try. He was right. Delightful mix of surrealism, science fiction, alternate history, and literary geekiness, sort of a Douglas Adams with better writing.

    SugarFree

    I’ve been on a horror kick. I re-read The Tommyknockers for the first time since it first came out. It remains one of the more interesting failures of Stephen King’s long career. The basic premise is sound and portions of the book are fantastic but–like much King’s work–it needed an editor, a very heavy-handed editor. It could lose a hundred or so pages and be a masterpiece for it. The TV miniseries is a rather dreary affair, hampered by poor casting and bad special effects.

    I read a dozen or so King short stories afterward as a palate cleanser–most of Night Shift and parts of Skeleton Crew–and watched all the TV and movie adaptations where they have been made. The only thing I really have to say is that Linda Hamilton might be wearing the least erotic pair of shorts ever produced for the female body in 1984’s The Children of the Corn.

    I read Nick Cutter’s first two books, The Troop and The Deep. The Troop is an effective and nasty little piece of splattercore, so efficient and complete that I cannot understand how it isn’t a movie yet (it even acknowledges a structural debt to Carrie that a movie adaptation could ignore.) The Deep is more ambitious, but I found it a little too derivative to be truly enjoyable, mashing up Solaris, Event Horizon, Sphere, The Abyss and any number of demonic possession stories to surface to an ambiguous ending.

    Finally, I read The Soldier, the first book in a new trilogy by Neal Asher, set once again in his sprawling Polity Universe. It is his usual sort of meth-freak out science fiction overdrive that you either adore or hate. The new trilogy is picking up my favorite narrative thread of his work and my least favorite narrative thread and tying them together into an interstitial tale that doesn’t quite break his continuity but does manage to whack it in the knee with a length of pipe a few times. I’m along for the ride, though, Neal.

    Riven

    I have really been slacking. The only books I’ve read this month were the childhood books I incidentally read while unpacking the last three boxes my parents were very graciously still storing for me in their garage. I kid you not when I say that my sister and I read this edition of Mother Goose to pieces. It was already well-loved by the time I “inherited” it from my sister, who is only five years my senior. If you are looking for a good book for a very young child, look no further. The illustrations are beautiful and are more than enough to capture the imagination of a child who can’t read yet. And it’s a great book for a kid to grow in to because the rhymes are simple and easy to read.

    Other notable childhood mentions are: Mooncake, Dinotopia (The World Beneath), Four Little Kittens, and The Poky Little Puppy. So, if you want to raise a crazy little libertarian chick, there’s a few ideas. Don’t forget to include plenty of Berenstain Bears (just be sure you pronounce it correctly), and go ahead and throw in some age-occasionally-appropriate spooky stories like Goosebumps, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, The Eyes of the Dragon, and (one of my favorites) The Iron Dragon’s Daughter.

    mexican sharpshooter

    Yesterday, I read the Very Hungry Caterpillar to my son.  Its a classic coming of age tale of a caterpillar coming to terms with a body shaming public that refuses to accept his outward appearance.  They simply do not understand the caterpillar and drives him to seek refuge in food as a coping mechanism.  The joke however is on society, as the caterpillar shelters himself away from the world, and shows them all what he becomes.

    SP

    Lots of mindless reading this month while on the road to and from Montana, most of which doesn’t deserve mentioning, so I won’t.

    Sorta enjoyed the latest Agent Pendergast book, City of Endless Night, but it seemed much weaker than previous works in the series. As usual, I knew the identity of the villain as soon as xe was introduced.

    I’ve started Robert Dugoni’s David Sloane series. I’m only a bit into book 1, The Jury Master, so haven’t quite formed an opinion yet. I am not generally a huge fan of lawyer novels (or lawyers, with a couple notable exceptions), but this seems less wrapped up in the legal story lines than most in the genre.

    In audio, I’m currently listening to The Final Cut by Catherine Coulter and J.T. Ellison. It has two narrators, Renee Raudman and MacLeod Andrews, neither of whom I’ve heard before. I like it so far, but I’m not that far into it since I only allow myself to listen to books when on solo roadtrips or as a reward while cleaning (of which I’ve not been doing much!).

    Brett L

    I toted along the first book in the Kvothe Series (I think its officially called the Kingkiller Chronicles, but since the author has spent seven years NOT RELEASING THE BOOK WHERE A KING GETS KILLED, I’m just going with the the name of the main character) to the beach to re-read. And then I read the 2nd volume and then I read the final oh wait, no. Rothfuss and GRRM are still having that contest about who gives less of a fuck about finishing his series. I read the Racing Weight book on the advice of Deadhead in the Glibfit series. I started the plan but then bombed out. Will attempt a restart on Sunday.

    Finally, I have been listening to Jordon Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos on and off. I won’t say it changed my life, although I appreciate his perspective on some things. It’s like listening to the reverse version of a preacher who uses science and psychology. Or maybe it like taking an ethics class from a Jesuit? I don’t know how else to describe Dr. Peterson’s somewhat unique insistence on the Bible as a central allegory to our current civilization, while fully acknowledging an embracing FW Nietzsche’s critique of religion. What comes through clearly on the audiobook of Dr. Peterson reading his own book is that he believes what he wrote. I am glad to have listened to it, even if I’m not going to choose to clean my room, today.

     jesse.in.mb

    Recently had some flights and managed to put away quite a bit this month. The Dark Monk (A Hangman’s Daughter Tale Book 2) by Oliver Pötzsch: I enjoyed this one (I wrote about the first book in March) although there’s some minor element of the passing that I find off-putting, but not so off-putting I won’t read the next book. Finding Camlann: A Novel by Sean Pidgeon: frumpy archaeologist and a pretty Welsh linguist with turbulent personal relationships with other people investigate rumors of Arthurian legend and find each other. Monsoon Mansion: A Memoir by Cinelle Barnes makes me appreciate my…uh…problematic parents much more. While some part of me wonders if it suffers from some of the issues associated with I, Rigoberta Menchu, the story she tells is riveting.

    Web Dominatrix

    I haven’t been reading much this month since I’ve been so busy, but I just ordered (yet again) a copy of The Enneagram Made Easy. This book is my go to for all things Enneagram and really helps me understand myself better and those around me.

    I’ve had to order it again because I keep giving it away to people when I realise they’ve never read it because it really is that useful and interesting.

    Not Adahn

    I primarily read RPG manuals for entertainment these days. I like them. They have worldbuilding, a peek at how things work backstage (which is something I like) and they can be read in whatever chunks of time I have without interrupting a narrative flow. This month:

    Star Wars: The Role Playing Game, by West End Games. This came out in 1987, so if you want to know how Star Wars geeks thought about how the SW universe worked back in the day (with input from the studios that still had Jedi fresh in their mind), here’s your answer. TL;DR: George Lucas retcons every goddamned thing. Also interesting is looking back and seeing how sacred canon used to be. Unlike today, where every game designer puts his personal self-insert fanfic headcanon into the games they work on (Did you know that all elves in D&D are trans now?) this book treats the movies as inviolable fact. There are only two Jedi masters left, and no, you character can’t meet them. Which really sucks if you want to play a Jedi as the game allows that there might be a few minor Jedi that escaped the purges, but without real training, your character is going to be crippled. But having Obi-Wan or Yoda meet another potential student would completely fuck the storyline so it’s disallowed.

    Ars Magica 3rd Edition, by Wizards of the Coast. Is there any company that has done more to destroy the gaming industry than WOTC? They make one massively successful game, buy up everyone else, then it turns out that they’re not very good designers, they just got lucky once. This piece of crap follows in that tradition. I have a copy of the first edition of Ars Magica (by Lion Rampant games) and like everyone else loved the setting, the concepts behind the game, the alien medievalism, and found the mechanics a bit baffling when they weren’t clear but clunky. This book is literally five times the thickness of the first one, but completely fails at being any more clarifying. It guts the medieval mindset for a modern one and slathers on all sorts of 1990’s-era White Wolf emo crap and d10 rolling. In fact, this is so much a WW game, I had to double check to make sure it was WOTC. Unless WOTC bought WW which could very well have happened. And it became an even less-playable game. In fact, with the mutli-character concept, most of the playing is done solo filling out spreadsheets (which would be an excellent use of downtime between gaming sessions) except that it requires everyone in the group to be there watching you fill out your spreadsheet and approving your choices. Who would actually want to play this? Nobody. Which is why they made advancing your character so freakishly impossible — nobody is going to play this twice so those rules don’t matter. If you want to play an actual “I’m a wizard, I can do everything” game, you’ll need to get a copy of Mage: The Ascension.

  • The Wit and Wisdom of Cardi B

    • My slogan for my [Presidential] campaign is – “ISIS, Suck a Dick!” Remember, America! Suck a dick! Suck a dick. Suck a whole lot a dick. Vote for me!
    • I put niggas to sleep like Jigglypuff.
    • It’s cold outside, but I’m still lookin’ like a thottie, because a ho never gets cold.
    • Ride the dick like a BMX. No nigga wanna be my ex.
    • Eleanore Roosevelt, she did so much for the Blacks. That’s my bitch! And we got the same birthday – October 11!
    • Ever since I took that etiquette class, all I wanna do now is white people activities.
    • Everybody want to be a rapper. Fuck your dreams! Get a job.
    • God forbid, the government tries to take us over, and we can’t defend ourselves because we don’t have no weapons. How do you think American colonizers went to Africa and it was so easy for them to get those people? Because they had guns. No matter what weapon you have, you can’t beat a gun. They have weapons like nuclear bombs that we don’t have. So imagine us not having any weapons at all.
  • Comics ‘n’ Jazz

     

    There’s something to be said for the notion that comic books are like jazz. Both are American art forms, free form and unique, pulling inspiration from rustic roots and becoming insanely popular. The two art forms were born and bred from the underclass, dismissed as savage and crude by the educated at the time, and a protest against the stifling cultural norms of the time. They became popular around the world, but were never able to be fully replicated outside the United States…at least not in the same form. Both jazz and comics had a major societal impact. Both forms took themselves more and more seriously…and both seem to be creative dead ends, neither impacting culture or selling like they once did.

    You don’t dance like this to Kenny G.

    One might object that both are still important. After all, one can’t go to the theaters without being bombarded by men in capes. One can’t go out to eat without some light jazz playing in the background. Yet that doesn’t make the actual comics books themselves important any more, nor does it make jazz artists important. A popular comic today sells less than ten or twenty thousand copies. A new jazz album? About the same. Long gone are the days when Captain Marvel would sell two million copies each month.

    This isn’t about jazz. Much as I love Miles Davis, and my Sundays are spent blaring away Duke Ellington or John Coltrane, it’s not an area where I feel knowledgeable enough to speak. Comics, however? That was my childhood. After baseball practice, glove hanging off my handlebars, I would ride down to the local convenience store and and coins in my pocket to pick something off the spinner racks that were ubiquitous. Paper route money would buy me Moon Knight, Spider Man, Batman, or whatever four color hero caught my eye. As I got older, my tastes changed. I would buy Cerebus, Love and Rockets or some other black and white independent comic. Later, those purchases would fade away almost entirely. It was the cycle of life. A piece of childhood put away in long boxes, to be opened again by some child, decades later.

    The industry worked back then. Comics made money. If an issue sold below 200,000 copies it was in danger of cancellation. Today, selling just ten percent of those numbers would be a “success” by industry standards. If not for their value as intellectual property in movies and television, it would be a very, very obscure market.

    Space Alien attacks. Women and minorities hardest hit.

    What killed comics? It seems that there are many answers. One argument is that it’s being killed by companies pushing a political message in their comics. In a push for “diversity,” comics have taken on an almost singular voice. Popular characters are replaced by women, people of color, LGBTQKT+ (or whatever word salad is in use as of this writing), etc. Sales fall, and then the “real” versions of the characters return. If one goes on Twitter, writers and editors are hostile and chastising to those who espouse a different political opinion.

    The other side would argue that there isn’t enough diversity. Comics aren’t selling because they only appeal to a narrow demographic of unwashed white men with toxic attitudes, cloistered in unfriendly comic book shops. If you’re going to expand your audience, then that means selling to new demographics.

    Others have taken the approach of “those darn kids” and shake their fists at the non-reading youth of today. They would rather play video games than read a comic. Why read about the X-Men when you could, instead, play AS one of the X-Men in a video game?

    Of course, there’s also the idea of accessibility. You can rarely find comics on newstands or stores. Buying a comic requires a trip to a comic shop, which not every city has. Even if you do have a comic shop, it’s not always a friendly place. Children aren’t welcome to spend hours paging through the comics, like they would in front of a spinner rack.

    If I had to guess, my answer to the problem would be all of the above.

    Two examples. A decade ago, my son, then at the age when I picked up my first comic, was obsessed with the characters before he had ever read a comic. He had a Spider Man poster over his bed. He would wear his Batman costume around the house, sneaking from behind the couch to throw a foam battarang at me. We played a game called Heroclix where he knew all the obscure characters you could play. If any child would be a future comic reader, it would be him.

    A proud Dad, I took him to a comic shop…only to be met with suspicious stares, and unfriendly help. Being knowledgeable about comics, I went around to find him books he might like. I had little success. In an attempt to be more “adult” and “serious,” the books presented barriers. You needed decades of knowledge of the characters. There were no jumping on points. No issue contained it’s own story. (Batman Adventures was an exception.) We could never find three or four issues a week for him to pour over like I did. Even if we could have, the cover price alone makes it impossible. (Adjusted for inflation, I paid the equivalent of $1.65 per issue. Today the average cover price is $3.99 to $4.99) He then gravitated to manga, a form I find somewhat baffling, before giving it up entirely. He knows the characters through movies, but he’ll never take his child to buy an American comic. Two generations lost for the medium.

    Toxic Masculinity can only be defeated by Toxic Misandry.

    The next example is me introducing a new reader to comics. My writing and podcasting partner had never read a comic as a kid. She didn’t relate to the characters. She wanted to be Nancy Drew, not Batman. For our podcast, she now reads about 12 to 18 comics a month. Most feel like punishments. Incomprehensible characters. Muddled art. Ham fisted messages. Lack of discernible character motivations. Even with the women-written issues, featuring strong women characters, they aren’t anything that would have appealed to her when she was younger. The characters all lack flaws, for example. How can you have drama if the lead character is always flawless?

    So comics aren’t written for kids. They’re not written for adults. They’re not written for the existing fans. They’re not written for new fans. Who are they writing for?

    Bringing it back to jazz, who are jazz musicians playing for? Count Basie played for the people who came to dance. Ella played for people coming out for a good time at her shows, for the radio, for the listeners. Today, jazz runs away from the popular. The days of unruly kids running riot and dancing the jitterbug is as archariac as young kids sitting under a tree with comics. Today jazz is all about sophistication. Long free form performances are the rule, the tight piece you can dance to is gone. We’ve replaced Stompin’ at the Savoy with half empty bars, surrounded by people who look like Woody Allen, listening to the musical equivalent of watching someone self pleasure himself for a half hour. If you don’t like it, then you’re obviously unsophisticated. Begone, philistine, and listen to rap…and the kids do. Goodbye jazz. Like classical, you’ve become soundtrack and background noise.

    In the end, the market decides. People vote with their dollars, and you either adapt or fade away. Gone are the days where the bandleaders would reign in the jazz artists, so they could bring in the crowds. Gone are the comic editors who didn’t give a damn about what was in the comic as long as it moved off the stands. You can make all the excuses you want, but the numbers don’t lie. Can comics survive when they cost more to make than they earn?

    Doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to figure that one out.

    Obligatory music

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  • I Fucking Love Astrology: The Horoscope for June 24

    First up:  This weeks alignments…

    None.  Nada.  Zip.  Zilch.  The planets are all being non-conformists, but not doing it together like gothlings. From a heliocentric view, the universe is an empty place devoid of meaning, lifeless planets lumbering along indifferent to the existential horror, blindingly following their paths set by unreasoning forces until all existence dies frozen in ultimate blackness.

    This is going to be a bad week for aspies.  The moon is in Virgo, bringing change to people who don’t like change.  Interestingly, even though The Virgin is typically portrayed as female by the ancients, the personality types predicted perfectly match those of today’s male virgins.  This ability of a theory to correctly predict things centuries later is why astrology is considered such a perfect science.

    Fucking magnets, how DO they work?
    How much more perfect could a science be? None. None more science.

    Remember how I used to predict good fishing?  Well that orbital mechanic has turned around and now fishing is going to suck for a while.  C’est l’etoile.

    Your mental acuity will fade down to normal levels as Sol ceases illuminating Gemini.  on the other hand, Mercury continues in Cancer, so with a bit of effort, you can still be successful in that research you’ve been doing.  If you haven’t been doing any research, disregard that last bit.  For the non-researchers, you will probably forget to log off of something or clear your browser history, leading to  embarrassment.  You should have been researching something.

    Seriously though, clear your cache.  That whole Jupiter retrograde in Scorpio does lend credence to the “your porn history will become public knowledge” thing this week.

    Also this week, there is Aquarius (the water bearer) linked with Mars. (war, conflict).  So some people will be fighting over a water vessel.

     

  • I Fucking Like Ottawa in a Vaguely Pleasant Way: The Horoscope for June 17

    I still havent tried these. Nor Timbits.
    Photographic proof that I was in Canada

    There are two alignments in the skies this week.  The first is quite auspicious:  Earth-Mars-Venus-Luna.  Mars+Venus = the lovers, the Earth places them domestically, and the moon is romance.  So for those of you with a spouse, this should be a good week to rediscover how good home cooking can be.

    Honestly, no worse than any other public art, though I do get a bit of an OMWC vibe from it.
    Ottawa Public Art

    The second alignment is Saturn (retrograde)-Earth-Mercury.  New portents, a boost to creativity, hangovers reduced, and artistic successes.  While this alignment also includes the Earth, it doesn’t have any major relationship to the first alignment.

    What does have a relationship to the first alignment is the fact that half of it (Venus and Luna specifically) are in Leo.  In that context, it just reinforces the domestic bliss aspect and indicates that the more dominant partner will have a particularly good time.  By itself, it indicates that your cat will go into heat if you haven’t had it fixed.  So get the vicious little hate machine fixed already.

    In addition to the horrendously crappy food, more evidence that Ottawa is awful
    Speaking of hate machines…

    The sun remains in Gemini, increasing the likelihood of revelation and discovery.  Speaking of discovery, Ottawa seems like it can be thoroughly explored in a day or three.  In a way, it’s a lot like DC in that goods are of relatively high quality but more expensive than you’d expect.  It is vastly smaller than DC, and much, MUCH whiter.  Like, you know the joke about there being no black people in Canada?  It’s actually true of Ottawa.  On the other hand, it’s vastly superior to DC in the sense that it was built on top of a mountain next to a scenic river as opposed to the middle of a swamp.  When you’re on Capitol Hill, you see– DC.  When you’re on Parliament Hill, you see woods, a river, boats on said river, roses, it’s really very nice.  And the buildings I think are prettier than Federal Neo-Classical, but de gustibus and all of that.

    The only part of the original Parliament complex left, because some librarian had their shit together enough to close the fire doors. Sometimes librarians can preserve beautiful things, not shatter them.
    The Great Sept of Balor

    It’s also pleasant to look over the river at Gatineau, and note that if the Quebecois get uppity, you can just lob some cannonballs down at them and they can’t really much but curse at you in an amusingly silly accent.

    Jupiter (retrograde) in Scorpio. Same Stars, Different Day.  Although, when it comes to misrule, there are some interesting examples in Ottawa.  For example, we stayed in an AirB&B next to the Greek embassy.  Posh neighborhood, right?  …no.  Behold:

    The Syrian embassy at least resembled a residential law office
    If your embassy is located in a student rental unit, you’re not really trying very hard.

    There was a Hyundai Elantra in the drive and a fat crumpy tomcat walked by and sprayed it.

     

    In DC, the various countries at least made an effort with their consular offices.  Here, you could tell that nobody really cared about being there, but some countries were interested in showing off.  The DC-typical Embassy Row is visible from the river, and clustered next to the PM’s official residence/eyebrow storage facility were France, the UK, Indonesia, Some wealthy petrostate which I forget, and then The US, with the biggest, classiest, most abassadorrific embassy in the whole capital.  The Foggy Bottom crowd would give their very best pair of striped pants to be in that embassy, I’ll tell you.

     

    Mercury is in Cancer.  Mercury is the planet of news/tidings/announcements, and Cancer is the sign of secrets, so this could be a problematic week for you if you have something to hide.  Also, call your mother.

    Parliament is visible to the far right over the blue crane.
    Ottawa built a memorial to the Stanley Cup. I don’t know when exactly.  I assume they’ve resigned themselves to the fact that the real thing will never be here again.

    Mars is still in Aquarius.  Mars of course, is the planet of war, and I can’t quite figure out the Canadian military.  When I was in Quebec City, I saw soldiers at the Citadel, and they were in British ceremonial dress:  scarlet tunic, bearskin hat, the whole 8.23 meters.  The fact that they were wearing that uniform while shouting orders in French hurt my brain, but here at their War Memorial/Tomb of the Unknown Soldier combo they are wearing something similar to a US army uniform, not at all similar to a UK service kit:

    also, note how economical the Canadians are. Instead of putting up a new memorial for every war, they just add the dates of each new war to the memorial they already have.
    Note that the only tourist brave enough to approach the guard is an American

    Yeah, June in Canada is pretty fucking gorgeous.

    Saturn retrograde in Capricorn.  In my despair to come up with anything novel to glean from this never-ending astrological feature, it occurs that this might be one of the most self-referential  situations ever.  You’ve got Capricorn, the stubborn, change-resistant sign, and into that you’ve got Saturn (Chronus, Father Time, the Grim Reaper) the sign of endings flipped so that it’s negated — it will never end.  Of course, this is also true because retrograde motion inhibits/reverses the progress of a planet through a sign, keeping it there longer.  Couple that with the fact that Saturn is an outer planet with long orbital lengths, and we wind up with what we’ve got today.

    TL;DR on Ottawa:  all the cost of Montreal, half the charm.  Still a hell of a lot better than Ennis, TX.