I Have Her

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uP5oylZW2uI
Depression is a cruel and painful disease. It has robbed us of many great talents besides Phil Ochs. As for whether "her" is literal or metaphorical, it doesn't really matter. People (not always heterosexual men) often personify some passion as a woman, a "demanding mistress". But also, plenty of people suffering from depression have destroyed relationships when they proved not to "cure" them, and blamed the lover. I am so fortunate that I have someone in my life who loved me enough to reach out after I had mistreated her so viciously, and ask me to try again. She hasn't made me whole, but no-one can -- if that's possible, I will have to do it myself. But she did show me that someone was capable of loving me that much. I was a glutton for love. It was not enough for me to have the love of a good woman -- I demanded the love of another, and then another, never satisfied. At my worst, I tried to have the love of three, any of whom would have been a good match for me, but trying to have everything more than just both ways made all of them miserable, hurt them terribly. I demanded that they prove themselves to me over and over, and was never satisfied. I am immensely fortunate that the true love of my life forgave me all of that, and invited me to walk away from self-indulgence onto a demanding path which led to the happiness I now enjoy. Depression is still an issue, but it's better now that I have found better footing. Ours is one of the great loves of history, even though no-one will know about it. Future generations will not speak of "John Burt and his Brightly Shining" as a metaphor for love, but that doesn't matter. The greatest soldiers didn't get medals, the scientists who contributed most never received a Nobel Prize. No-one knows who wrote "Away in a Manger" or "Darlin' Corey". No-one will know, but it happened, and it is happening now.
I have her. She isn't "nothing".

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "She's really something."\\

Modern Stone-Age Names

One of these days, I'm going to write a story set in a world which has (relatively) advanced technology without having metalworking.

One element of this story is going to be that characters will have "Indian names" (i.e., names which are nouns, verbs and/or adjectives), but names which could pass as "normal" names: Rose Winter, Joy Gold, Amber White, &c.

I have plenty of family names: Smith, Short, Black, Hammer, Harewood, Silver, Miller, Bear, Young, Pine, Potter, Hill, Broadacre, Door, Bale, Pond, Roundtree, Burden, Ransom, Snow, Fish, Hightower, Grass, Linden, &c.

I have plenty of female names: Tulip, Felicity, Holly, Ruby, Hope, Rose, Columbine, Melody&c.

But I'm having trouble with male names: Flint, Walker, Mark, Blue, Spade, Hunter, Stoney, Gray, Rice, Weaver, Oak, Robin, Cooper, Goodman, Cutter....  That's about all I could come up with.

Anybody have any suggestions, especially of male names?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Ball, Black, Pool, Fortune . . . ?"\\

Feminist Graphic Novels

I'm writing to say that Kathe and I have both finished Bitch Planet Volume 1, and will be returning it tomorrow.

In the meantime, I must tell you that neither Kathe nor I liked it very much.  We agreed that it covered ground better tilled by novels like The Handmaid's Tale* and Native Tongues**.

Kathe asked me to come up with a list of better feminist graphic novels, especially ones which depicted a horrific patriarchal dystopia.  I couldn't find that exact thing (unless you would count the Sid Jacobson/Ernie Colon adaptation of the diary of Anne Frank: http://www.amightygirl.com/anne-frank-graphic-novel 

or Marzi: 

http://druidcitycomic.com/graphic-novel-review-marzi-a-memoir/

or Lili Renee:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10866058-lily-renee-escape-artist

or maybe Rosa Parks:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1161932.Rosa_Parks_And_The_Montgomery_Bus_Boycott

and there's a case to be made for The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/888169.Triangle_Shirtwaist_Factory_Fire), but here are some graphic novels that have come recommended by various people.  Some I have read, some I have not, some which the GNBC has read:

http://www.womenyoushouldknow.net/nine-graphic-novels-every-girl-should-read/

http://wrappedupinbooks.org/2014/06/13/feminist-fridays-graphic-novels-reading-lists/

http://bust.com/graphic-novels-by-women-that-you-should-read-now.html

http://www.flashlightworthybooks.com/Best-Graphic-Novels-About-Women/588

http://www.amightygirl.com/mighty-girl-picks/graphic-novels

Ody-C tries a different approach to undermining patriarchy, reversing the genders in one of the most influential patriarchalist documents, The Odyssey (which some have claimed was written by a woman): 

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25256034-ody-c-vol-1

--  John M. Burt

* http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38447.The_Handmaid_s_Tale

(BTW: A graphic novel of THT is coming soon:  http://groupthink.kinja.com/the-handmaids-tale-graphic-novel-1630506060).

** http://www.sfwa.org/members/elgin/NativeTongue/Index.html

An Open Letter to Hemlock Andashes and Other "Real" Progressives

There is an interesting article here: http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2015/04/fellow-liberals-dont-harass-the-bigots-please/comments/#disqus

There are a number of interesting comments following it.

But one of the more interesting was this: http://back2theroot.com/2015/04/02/open-letter-to-raw-story-blogger-amanda-marotte-other-faux-progressives/, and I am astonished that I've never heard of back2theroot.com before.

And by "interesting" I mean breathtakingly boring.  I don't think this infantile whiner neglected any sophistry, down to and including Godwin's Law.

And by "astonished" I mean that I could not possibly be less surprised.

Dude, when my wife and I were doing cut-and-paste zines in the 1980s, it was typewritten text we were cutting and pasting to make up pages we could print on a photocopier -- we weren't cutting and pasting weary vanguardist tropes so we could feel all "radical" (and yes, I "get" your oh-so-clever play on words...o_0).

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Do the right thing."\\

History, Real and Imaginary

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/03/27/the-end-of-the-slave-trade/?ref=opinion

I have just finished my second novel, Frankenstein's World.  Like The Christmas Mutiny, it's an alternate history (although a less plausible one, being based on the idea of Victor Frankenstein being a real person, and his inventions actually working as described in the original book).
I will shortly begin selling Frankenstein's World, and will begin and writing my third, also an alternate history, this one featuring three different alternate-history versions of the American South.  And none of them will be a descendant of our own world's Confederate States of America.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook hazy, ask again later."\\

It Feels Like There is Plastic on My Forehead

But it's really just the Botox at work.
No, not for vanity's sake -- I have a long list of things I'd worry about regarding my appearance before I would be concerned about wrinkles.
It's supposed to reduce the frequency and severity of migraines -- 100mg of Botox in my forehead and shoulders.
I'd really rather get a neck and shoulder massage every week, but then there are a lot of things I'd like to have.
It does seem to be working.  One way I can tell is that if I expend the energy to move my reluctant forehead muscles, I quickly feel the beginning of a headache.  Then I stop.
I'll be back in three months for another round of shots.  I'm going to ask for an anti-anxiety drug  to be prescribed for just before -- getting all those shots was a bit unnerving.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook is Good."\\

Little Black Gloves

For the last few months, I have been wearing black thermal gloves with no fingertips.  They keep my hands warm, which is especially important for me because I have been diagnosed with an assortment of disorders which all tend to reduce circulation in my extremities.
I love these gloves.  They have become looser (they were originally skin-tight), and I need to buy new ones, but they make a huge difference in my quality of life.
Not only do they keep my hands warm, they also remind me to look after my hands.  They remind me, for instance, that I don't have to wash my hands with cold water -- I can wait for the stream to become hot.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Take care of yourself."\\

George Mails a Letter

While George was putting on his jammies, John told him a story.
"This is a story from when George was a little bit older than he is right now.  George was writing a letter to his Grandma Dorothy.  He told her about what he was studying in school, and about friends he was making this year.  He told her about some new toys he had received recently.  He asked her some questions about how she was doing.  He folded up the letter and put it in an envelope, and he went to where John and Kathe kept stamps and also their address book.
"He copied down Grandma Dorothy's address very carefully, and wrote his own address in the corner.  He put a stamp on the envelope, but then he got worried about whether it was too heavy to mail, so he clipped the envelope to the postage scale that Kathe had shown him how to use.  He saw that his letter weighed a little bit too much for one stamp, and would need a second stamp -- but there weren't any more!
"George went to Kathe and said he was going to the Post Office to buy a stamp for his letter.  Kathe asked him if he would be willing to wait until she went out next, and she would promise to bring stamps home this time.  She said she was sorry she hadn't already bought some.  George said he would rather go right away, because he once wrote a letter and forgot about it, and when he found it months later he had felt very bad about it.  Kathe said she understood how he felt.
"Kathe got a twenty dollar bill from her purse and gave it to George.
"'Please go buy a book of stamps for me, and use one to mail your letter, and bring the stamps and the change back, okay?'  George nodded and took off.
"At the Post Office, George waited in line, and when it got to be his turn, he asked for a book of stamps and then reached into his pocket and -- there was no money in it!  The clerk looked down at George sadly as George's eyes filled with tears.
"'Calm down,' the clerk said.  'Check your pockets carefully before you panic.'
"George put his hand into his left front pocket and felt again, but there was no bill there.  He felt his left back pocket and his right back pocket and then his right front pock-- and there it was!
"George bought a book of stamps and took the stamps and his change, peeled a stamp from the book and stuck it onto his letter, and dropped it through the slot.  Now it was mail, and soon it would be delivered to Grandma Dorothy.
"George walked home and--"
"And on the way home, it rained twenty dollar bills! And George picked up a thousand of them!"
"Okay.  At first George stuffed the bills into his pockets, but soon they were bulging and could not hold any more.  Then he started stuffing them into the neck of his shirt.  By the time he got home, he looked like the Scarecrow of Oz."
"Ha -- haha -- haha!"
"And when he got home, John and Kathe were both amazed, and George was laughing like crazy when he reached into his shirt and pulled out a fistful of twenty dollar bills and said, 'I didn't forget your change!'
"There, how's that for a George story?"
"Good!"
"Okay, well, good night, George."
"Good night, Dad."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "These things could sell."\\

The Organ Plays

Kathe and I went to a recital of early (15th-16th Century) organ music today at the First United Methodist Church.

http://corvallisfumc.org/

As we looked around the interior, we made a note to bring the seven-year-old when we had him next, so he could admire the architecture and the windows.  I was reminded of a line from C.S. Lewis, something along the lines of, "She was about to make a disparaging reference to 'stained-glass saints' until she remembered what stained glass looks like".

We enjoyed the sacred and secular music, particularly the Agincourt Hymn, which we agreed was a ripsnortin' martial piece.  We wondered what it would sound like with a chorus, and searched YouTube without really having our curiosity satisfied.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdmwH_I21xY
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QU7kGaDLW9U
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLqQG7v4ujA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rdvFfO-6vro

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Music is powerful, especially if it's any damned good at all."\\ 

There Goes The Plum Tree

Our plum tree, which has dropped excessively-juicy plums onto the grass and sidewalk near the corner of 10th and Jefferson for far longer than I have lived here, is speeding up its decades-long process of falling over.  Its roots are tearing out of the ground, and its branches are touching the grass.

We will get plenty of big blue handle-carefully-they're-soft plums this year, but I think that will be it until one of the suckers coming up from its roots starts bearing.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "To everything there is a season."\\

Review: "The Initiates", by Etienne Davodeau

This is my review of The Initiates, as seen also at Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/880110337

There are obvious parallels between making graphic novels (writing, drawing, printing and distributing to readers) and making wine (raising, fermenting, bottling and distributing to drinkers): Each is a job that can be easily misunderstood.  Each is a form of art which many people fail to recognize as art.  Each is practiced by an assortment of masters, mediocrities and eccentrics not even their peers can understand.  Each has its own arcane practices and occult jargon, incomprehensible to the uninitiated.
There are obvious parallels between reading graphic novels and drinking wine: Some people enjoy them in prudent moderation, while others become obsessives who allow something meant to enrich their lives to take over their lives.  Some people despise anyone who has anything to do with them (using, respectively, the slurs "subliterate" and "drunkard").
Etienne Davodeau and Richard Leroy don't really "exchange jobs", as the subtitle claims.  Rather, they exchange insights into their jobs: Etienne shows Richard his drafting tools and takes him to the editorial offices and the printing press where his unique art is turned into a mass product.  Richard puts Etienne to work pruning vines and draws samples from his barrels to show him how fermenting wine progresses towards the form in which it will be bottled.
Richard offers Etienne tastes of Poulsards and Chardonnays, while Etienne showers Richard with Art Spiegelman and Alan Moore.
I'm amused by the fact that the English title, "The Initiates" stands opposite to the original French title, "Les Ignorants", but at the same time, the underlying principle is the same.  Rather the way that the English word "mammal" compares with its German equivalent, Säugetier.  The one means "milk-producer", while the other means "milk-drinker".  Etienne and Richard both nourish, and they both are nourished.  Reading this book, you will be nourished.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It will be up to you to nourish others with your own talent and labor."\\

A Bit Late, But . . .

I have decided to give up Facebook for Lent.  I will make a sincere effort not to go onto Facebook until Easter Sunday, an occasion I will otherwise not observe.
Persons who are genuinely interested in our current situation, especially Kathe's health, may visit this blog, or e-mail me at john_m_burt@hotmail.com

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook is good."\\

Death -- What a Concept

I ran into an interesting post at Susie Bright's blog, about Ariel Gore and the memoir she allowed herself to write after her mother died:

 http://susiebright.blogs.com/susie_brights_journal_/2014/03/lung-cancer-noir-ariel-gores-masterpiece.html#tpe-action-posted-6a00d8341c5e4053ef01a3fcce7c30970b

It inspired me to make this comment:

I had appalling dreams after my father died, and dream logic followed me into waking life.  I discovered that not only could I not confront the reality that my father was dead, I could not even deal with the reality of death, period, for anyone.  I would find myself imagining corpses living still, drawn-out lives in drawers and back bedrooms, and saying things like, "Oh, yes, she's dead -- but how dead is dead, really?"  It was over a year before I stopped skidding over the concept of death and could say, "Dead is dead.  My father is dead."

Now that my father is definitively dead, though, I can feel his presence more than I could when death didn't exist in my world.  The other day, I saw a joke that involved Marxist jargon and a horrid pun, and I immediately sent it out to the family:

"Q: Why is it that when you flush the toilet at Karl Marx's place, you can hear the sound of stringed instruments?
"A: Because of the violins inherent in the cistern.
"This has been a George S. Burt Memorial E-Mail."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Yes, he would have liked that one."\\

Uncertainty Principle

A man once hired a private detective to find out if his wife were cheating on him.

The detective returned in just three days with a video which showed the view through his best friend's bedroom window.  The man saw his wife enter with his best friend, passionately kissing.  The video showed them stripping naked, his wife and his best friend climbing onto the bed, and then turning out the light.

The man stared at the screen, now showing only a darkened window, then turned to the detective and said, tears in his eyes, "That's the worst part of it -- the sheer Hell of never knowing for certain!"

This dirty joke is dedicated to the people who say, "So you're saying only 97% of climatologists think human activity is causing the derangement of the climate . . . ?"

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Not to decide is to decide."\\

Godzilla

Recently the subject of the many Godzilla movies came up elsewhere on the 'net, and it got me thinking about them.

I do like Godzilla.  I have not seen every single Godzilla movie, but I think I would like to:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godzilla_%28franchise%29

I looked for trailers for those movies:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKrj1ymJzmo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ll8H4bpZgTw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PBbK8tkTE8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UsP_vCffBe4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vC4rMWD7MXw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esLZFPL3dDE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpbaeNbCM_w

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fx5_3__XIP8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_rWm_u2oQQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTd0HAMA50U

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVOR-463obk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyOVKYabImw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REMsbJMtN0Y

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_L5Fz-vDXOg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fotSbx0D1A0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ePtjMbETOI
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aKtjGBtf9s

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSmLbhifByc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6E6t37NRfN8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5zw6PrBp7g

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQuWkSDjNME

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MLvi8pp-uc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxeZUbKLNlI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CDU21yKliM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4iXgZkdGS8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SaZ3iR-wo-I

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnVajjMrqd0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5lXP2NMo8U

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5ASNlqnrhM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CkJ_n9ygZRw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1b2CtgkwJQA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_D2c34KDbEk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGOX_FdEccc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_oiHWXLIFI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mBwsUD7jYCI

I was delighted to learn that I could find all of them on YouTube.

But my number one kaiju fantasy is of recutting Frankenstein Conquers the World
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wu6waDbmPNU

and War of the Gargantuas
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=swC1wZAJ5lU
into a recreation of the original planned sequel, The Frankenstein Brothers.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "GRONK!  GREEE-OOOO-OOONK!"\\

Pete Seeger, 1919-2014

http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/music/chi-pete-seeger-dead-20140127,0,3986283.story

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlSpc87Jfr0

Ninety-four years, none of them wasted.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Y7P4n2uT0w

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pete_Seeger

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mt9jWoXmrLw

An American hero.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvyvBRfJuIE

http://peteseeger.net/wp/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXKJ1jPuaoI

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "To everything there is a season."\\

Martin Luther King Speaks

A bit late, but here is a quote worth quoting:

“Call it democracy, or call it democratic socialism, but there must be a better distribution of wealth within this country for all God’s children.” -- May 1965 speech to the Negro American Labor Council

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "A cornered mouse will bite a cat.  This does not make the mouse a predator or make the cat into prey."\\

My Best Salute

I have told this story more than once, but a search indicates I haven't told it on my blog, so here it is:

My career in the Navy (January 1981 - June 1982) was not my finest hour, much less the Navy's, but it had its moments.

One was when I was crossing the grounds of the Naval Regional medical Center at Portsmouth, Virginia, and saw a person approaching.  My thoughts were, approximately,

Officer approaching, will need to salute . . .

She's a Captain, better make it look good . . .

She's a Line officer [i.e., not a lawyer or a nurse, but a "real" officer, the kind who commands ships], that's interesting . . .

In order to have risen to Captain as a Line officer, she must have either been one of the first ever commissioned, or else have risen quite rapidly through the ranks.  In either case, she must be something pretty special . . . .

I gave her the smartest salute I had in me.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "She deserved it."\\

A Small But Wonderful Thing Happened Today

I almost didn't notice it at the time.

I was telling Gideon a "Gideon story" (I tell him a lot of stories, and Kathe is after me to start writing them down -- I know she's right...) in which Gideon was with a group of carolers.  They sang "Stille Nacht", and Gideon told the group that his Dad had written a book about the Christmas Truce.

Gideon interrupted to ask if it was true that I had written a book "with pages, that people read?"  I told him, not many people so far, but I had hopes that it would sell more eventually.  I opened my laptop and showed him the illustrations I had used, and he pointed to one of my advertisements and said, "I have seen that!"

  

 

 

So I guess now he knows it's true.  In the morning, I will sit down with him and page through the copy I had made at CreateSpace.

I'll try to find a passage from the book that I can read to him.  

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Maybe the soccer game?"\\

The Christmas Mutiny, Carbon-based Form

I just got in the mail a proof copy of The Christmas Mutiny from Amazon's CreateSpace. Now I can show people a physical copy. I expect to show it around a lot.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It looks pretty good."\\

Tinnitus

My tinnitus began in early childhood, in the form of occasional sustained notes (at the time, I thought I must be especially sensitive to noises from electronics), and an occasional loud noise, swelling rapidly and then fading rapidly, very much like feedback.

It evolved into a frequent sound like cicadas buzzing (and which I long thought was), and these days is a more or less constant chorus ranging from a sound rather like the leaking of air from an almost-blocked sinus to a large field of cicadas.  That nasty feedback noise seems to be gone for good, though (touch wood).

My recently taking a job in a noisy industrial environment probably isn't helping -- one more reason for me to find a new one ASAP. My hearing was never all that good, and I think the tinnitus is making that worse.

I am leery of taking the tinnitus medication called "Quietus".  I think Children of Men had it right about what sort of medication ought to have that name: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYy80trSPSI

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "Don't be silly, try it and see if it helps."\\

Happy Anniversary, Kathe

Love You, Dad

My father will always be with me.  Like today, when I was handing over a check marked VOID in order to set up direct deposit for my paychecks, and I heard Dad's voice saying, "This is so much easier than in the old days, when you had to actually take a check and void on it".  Love you, Dad....

//The Magic Eight - Ball says, "He loves you, too."\\

Corvallis in 2063?

The other day, Kathe and I visited the "Corvallis in 2063" exhibit at the Arts Center. It showed various visions for the future in various media. Some of the model homes were very clever in design.
I was disappointed that it did not include a print of the famous painting of "Corvallis in 2057".


In the middle there was a table on which was a map of Corvallis. People were invited to place Post-It notes describing what they would like to see in the future. Among them was a suggestion of a municipal nuclear power plant. This was surrounded by several Post-Its saying things like "NO!"

I thought it over and came to a conclusion which I thought was worth sharing:

One day, we will have the technology that will allow us to build small nuclear power plants which are safe and efficient, but we probably won't build them for the same reason that we are unlikely ever to build personal jetpacks for commuting, zeppelins for passenger travel, or humanoid robots for household help. Not because these things are impossible, but because with the technology that makes them possible we can build other things that are more practical and useful.   //The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Predictions are always tricky, especially about the future."\\

My Laptop Died

Not a good thing, for my writing career or my mental equilibrium, neither of which is on a very good footing just now.

I wonder whether it can be repaired, or if I will have to replace it again.  Oh, well, neither one is really within my budget, anyway.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Kinda stinks, don't it?"\\

I'm Ready to Beg, Folks

Unemployed for close to two years, nobody is hiring, my books aren't selling.

If you have not bought one of my publications, please consider it. I personally think The Christmas Mutiny is a good story. I also think highly of my short stories "Hansel and Gretel Lost in the Bardo", "The Men Who Saved JFK" and my manual on massage technique, With a Friendly Touch, all of which are available for download at Amazon.com.

For the next seven days, if you e-mail me at john_m_burt@hotmail.com or text me at (541) 602-6026 to inform me that you have bought one of my stories, I will reply with 1) my personal thanks and 2) my new story "Dragons Live Forever", a 375-word flash piece which has not yet been offered to the public.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You can always ask."\\

Makayla Kelley Burt

My first grandchild.


//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Let the stars beware."\\

Fortune Cookies

Kathe and I had a Chinese supper from Safeway. It was our first plausibly normal meal since her surgery. Did me a world of good, for sure.

My fortune: "What you will do matters. All you need is to do it." Okay.

Kathe's fortune: "Your happiness is before you, not behind you! Cherish it." I sure hope so.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I suppose you noticed you were sitting right before her at the time...?"\\

Hold Kathe in the Light

After more than a week of pain and nausea, Kathe is now being admitted for emergency surgery. Looks to be appendicitis.

I'll post updates to my blog.

Anne Adjusts

Anne Hiler, my father's sister and last of her generation, is adjusting to widowhood as well as can be expected.

My mother is with her, and Kathe and I are checking in with her.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It's okay if that's all you have to say."\\

Good Cookies

http://www.williams-sonoma.com/recipe/oatmeal-chocolate-chip-cookies.html

I make them for Kathe and me to eat on the paper route.

Still wish I could find Becca's recipe card for the recipe I used to use.

Or ask Becca about it....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "She loved her mother. And she loved you."\\

A New Post at My Massage Blog

You might find it of interest, especially if you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders just now.

http://johnmburtlmt.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-shoulder-well.html

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't we all?"\\

Edublog Post

I found this while searching the phrase "Frankenstein's World", because that is the title of my next book and I was wondering what else people would find when searching for it.* I found the thoughts of someone reading the original novel, and a final post which expresses disappointment in the ending. My comment:
"I have to say I disagree with you about the ending of the original book. I think Frankenstein dying unavenged, and the monster likewise unavenged, is entirely appropriate, since what I have known of revenge tells me that even when it is 'successful', it is almost never satisfying.
"Clearly, though, many have disagreed, since I have not yet seen any dramatization or adaptation which has ended that way. The monster almost always kills Frankenstein and then dies himself, via a bolt of lightning (as in the original stage version) or in a fire (as in the 1931 Universal film) or literally fading away (as in the 1910 Edison film). The closest to the original ending that I have seen is a TV adaptation in which Frankenstein and the monster wrestle aboard Walton's ship and then fall through the ice to drown together."
In my own Frankenstein's World, I don't kill off either Frankenstein or his abandoned child. But I hope readers will find it satisfying.

*Mostly, references to a TV series called Once Upon a Time -- it looks interesting.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "There are as many Frankenstein's worlds as there are readers -- at the very least."\\

Light a Candle

Although Kathe and I haven't attended the Quaker Meeting in several years, we still get e-mails from them.
The other day, we heard that a Quaker had suffered a stroke. We have visited twice, talking with him and me rubbing his shoulders. Today, I read to him from a book about the peace witness movement. In one essay, the author said that the act of bearing witness was more often a candle held over an abyss than a bolt of lightning illuminating the landscape.
The thought occurred to me that if you lean over the abyss with a candle, you won't see very far, but anyone at the bottom will see your light, and know that someone is looking.
An isolated person will feel less lonely.
A despairing person will know someone cares.
A guilty person will know that the abyss does not hide everything.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Brighten up the corner you're in."\\

Meanwhile, The Ice Continues to Melt . . . .

[W]ith thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
Have every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents:
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard...
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
The human mortals want their winter here...
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter...the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which....

We can't blame the fairies for this. It's us.

We are their parents and original.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It is decidedly so."\\

Whose Flag Is This?

Anybody know?

I saw it the other day, and thought it was quite interesting.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Run it up the flagpole and see who salutes it."\\

Magic Eight-Balls Got Legs

They were sitting on our doorstep, much the way the Magic Eight-Ball arrived on our doorstep some weeks ago, with three black suction cups and a note explaining that they were "Eight-Ball legs". Well, okay, then they must be....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Thank you."\\

[Update: Finally did find out who was doing all that stuff. He came by while we were in and gave us a "cuestick" (not sure what it really is, but it's pretty) to go with the ball. And its legs.]

I Forgive You For Hating Teen Moms

I have only just discovered the FB page "I Hate Teen Moms" and the unfortunately large group of pages which imitate it. Looking them over has helped me to finally understand why Jesus said "Judge not, lest ye be judged". Clearly, Jesus understood that most people who are extremely judgmental are trying to push away the possibility that they would not measure up to the standards they set themselves, and think that attacking other people they will somehow shield themselves from judgment. Lighten up, people. It won't work. In fact, the best way to feel better about your own failings is the opposite: to be forgiving and understanding of other people.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I think Jesus said that, too."\\

Happy Birthday, Walden

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Hold him in the Light."\\

Christmas Truce Poem

Not long after I finished The Christmas Mutiny, I met a woman writing poems "to order" at the Saturday Market. I commissioned a poem on the subject of the Christmas Truce, but then didn't see her for several months. I learned later she had been out of town most of the time.
Yesterday, she was at the market again, spotted me and delivered the poem. I like it a lot:


The Christmas Truce, by Cassie Ruud

We will not fight today.
We will not let you order us
into these pukish
mud-blood-soaked trenches
on this day.
You took us from our families,
from the arms of our wives and children
and thrown us against each other
for reasons
we do not understand.
So we will not fight today.
We will stand a tree,
sing our songs,
play soccer out in No-Man's-Land
almost far enough away
to hide from the trench stench
We will pretend our darlings
are close to us, show
each other pocketed lockets
full of pictures,
smoke our pipes in silence and stare numbly into the fire.


//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Peace on Earth."\\

The Magic Eight-Ball Says, "Here I Am!"

Kathe and I were just out, and when we returned there was a package on the porch.
A note read only, "As the Magic Eight-Ball rolls."
Inside was, sure enough, an eight ball. It appears to be just the usual pool table type of eight-ball, but I am going to watch it for any signs of magical properties.
In the meantime, we have an eight ball. How cool is that?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Totally cool."\\

Philmfotos

I saw this on Facebook today:

http://philmfotos.tumblr.com/

Nifty.

Before there was such a thing as Google Street Views, I imagined it, and added bonus features like icons floating in the air: you could move your POV in front of the icon and "look through" it to see things like notes on the location, historical images of the same place, paintings of the same view and, yes, stills from movies which were filmed on the spot.

And then there are sites like

http://dearphotograph.com/

and one I really like

http://sergey-larenkov.livejournal.com/

The Taming of the Shrew

It was pretty cool.

The weather was mild, also.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Kiss me, Kat(h)e."\\

I Am An Oddfellow, But I'm Okay With That

I have just come home from an Oddfellows meeting, and have been reflecting on the Oddfellows' call for honorable conduct and service to humanity.

Thinking about how profound are simple truths such as, "This, too, shall pass" and "governments depend on the consent of the governed".

Thinking about how my parents really did raise me to be a good neighbor and to help move the world forward (or at least not impede it).

Thinking about my relatives and their values, and how I do feel privileged to be a member of a family like mine.

Yes, really.


//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Psst -- all men are brothers. Pass it on."\\

Fifty-Two Pickup

A week from Friday, I will turn 52, and as of now I am resolved that the theme of the next year of my life will be Fifty-Two Pickup.

The cards are all over the floor, but I will pick them up, one by one. I will shuffle the deck thoroughly. I will deal everyone a new hand.

Many thanks to my hypnotherapist, Robert Plamondon, who helped me reach this resolution*.

Resolution: 1) A formal declaration of understanding and/or intent. 2) The achievement of clearer vision.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "That is how the game is played."\\

A very Good Piece of Music

Someone sent me this link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=GBaHPND2QJg&feature=youtu.be

Really a gorgeous piece of music. That's why, among other things, I used it in The Christmas Mutiny.




//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Alle Menschen Werde Buredern".\\

Hope Needs an Eyrie

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7cVOOXQo22o

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "What makes one step a giant leap is all the steps before."\\

Inside the Benton County Courthouse

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9soLYwwl87s

I first saw the Benton County Courthouse in 1966, when I was six years old.

Coming over the Harrison Avenue Bridge into town, seeing the Courthouse illuminated by floodlights, I was powerfully impressed with it.

I still am, really.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It's impressive."\\

Wanna Buy a Sputnik?

We call it "Sputnik" because it has a fault that causes it to beep-beep-beep whenever any of the doors are open.

For the most part, though, it's in pretty good shape.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "And you could use the money."\\

"Are You Superman?"

"Are You Superman?"
By: Russ Burlingame on June 14, 2012

In : Comics
- Comments

A little something to brighten your day. This story comes to us courtesy of Jeff Watkins, the properietor of City Comics and Toys in Syracusae, New York.

His store–which sits in the Shoppingtown Mall food court, the onetime site of a battle between Tom Peyer and Rags Morales’ android Hourman and his foes–is one that we’ve written about before. A small retailer, Watkins loves comics and is often the only store in town to participate in things like midnight openings for “event” comics and organizing local conventions and signings.

He also, according to at least one young fan, bears a striking resemblance to the Last Son of Krypton:

Yesterday I walked from my store to my car through the mall. There was a special needs kid that was walking next to me. I was wearing a dark blue V-neck t-shirt and my thick Clark Kent classes. Hair was dark from the product in it and was firmly in place, except for the little spit curl on my forehead.

He kept pace and I said hello.

He had to ask me something.

He leaned in close and whispered “Are you Superman?”

I chuckled a little bit. “Thanks kid. No.”

His face remained dead serious.

“I won’t tell anyone.” He said.

“You’re very nice. Thank you. I’m not though. Superman isn’t re…”

And this kid had this look on his face.

“I. Won’t. Tell. Anyone. I promise. I swear.”

I’m an emotional guy so I was getting a little choked up.

“We are not supposed to talk about secret identities, kid. It can get dangerous.”

And he starts enthusiastically nodding in agreement. “I know. I know.”

When I was almost to the doors, I turned back and took my glasses off and I put my finger up to my lips and I went “Shhhhhhhhh.”

And as best as his limbs would let him, he gave me a thumbs up.

I’ve been welling up thinking about it for about 24 hours now. Thought I was crazy until I told Shanna last night and she had the same reaction.

100% totally true story and despite his disadvantages in life, perceived and real, I thank that kid for being a superhero yesterday.

The story went viral shortly after Watkins posted it as a status message on Facebook, with other comics fans reposting it to Reddit (where it made the front page), Cheezburger and other social link-sharing sites.

Jeff’s story is not only a great reminder that the characters in comics mean something–even to those who may not be old enough to read most of what the Big Two is putting out yet–but of the enduring appeal of a character like Superman, who is constantly facing those nagging “Is he relevant anymore?” questions.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "He's where you find him."\\

The Frankenstein Book, Chapter 2

Locke walked through the cramped aisles of shelves groaning with bound newspapers, towards the clerk’s desk at the rear. “I need a comprehensive article or series about the history of vitalogy, and a biography of Dr. Frankenstein,” he told the tall hoover at the desk. Perched on a stool itself five feet high, the hoover’s boxy head almost brushed the ceiling.

The hoover looked down at Locke from behind his desk (some eight feet from the floor – why so high?), silently climbed down and made his heavy-footed way down one of the aisles, which held not only the five-year print run of the Sun but those of the Evening Register, the Long Island Farmer, indeed every noteworthy newspaper in the city’s history, as far back as the Royal New-York Gazette. Mr. Day had bought the collection at auction when the Commercial Advertiser folded. There was every newspaper, past and present, that Locke could recall having seen, aside from the Negro paper Freedom’s Journal.

The hoover unerringly found the volume he wanted and carried it to a lectern of a more reasonable height where Locke could stand and read it. The hoover opened the book to the correct page without even having to flip through it, and even laid a finger at the top of the right-hand page, headed VICTOR CAROLUS FRANKENSTEIN in old-fashioned newspaper type.

“I can read,” Locke snapped. He might have apologized, even to a hoover, but the creature had already turned away, without the slightest sign of resentment, or even reaction, except to the implied dismissal. He climbed his stool and bent to his desk, his quill pen scratching away.

Locke looked at the wastebasket at the foot of the stool, surrounded by wadded sheets of paper and used quills that had missed it. As a boy, he had learned to write with a quill pen, but in recent years he had only seen hoovers using them. Next to the wastebasket was a cylindrical shape held together with a worn leather strap. Locke realized with a start that it was a bedroll, presumably the clerk’s. Did the creature sleep down here? But then, why not? He was only a hoover. Still, the idea of the hoover living down here, possibly not having seen the light of day since he was brought down here . . . .

Locke shook himself and looked at the article the hoover had found for him.

Six decades before -- in the same year that a terrible fire had destroyed a quarter of the city of New York, Adam Smith had published his essay on The Wealth of Nations, and the United States had declared their independence -- a medical student at Ingolstadt, Bavaria, had discovered the elixir vitae: a transparent golden fluid which could animate dead tissue.

When Frankenstein’s elixir perfused dead tissue, hearts would beat, lungs would respire. A brain invigorated by the elixir would awaken and send signals to nerves. The nerves would command muscles to action. The muscles would respond.

Even a discovery as amazing as that might not have transformed the world as much as it had, or as quickly, if Frankenstein hadn’t also advanced the art of surgery amazingly. Most reanimated bodies would have been little use as they were upon death: torn muscles and broken bones would be unable to function, damaged nerves would not be able to control a limb, disease-ravaged organs would not sustain a reanimated body. Frankenstein learned to graft a healthy limb in place of a ruined one, to splice the severed ends of nerves so they would function, and to give a healthy brain command over a body.

Frankenstein’s genius still might have languished for years. His handful of reanimated animals might have been mere curiosities, and his first disastrous attempt to copy the human form might have led a lonely existence. The final key component was Frankenstein’s invention of conservante, the transparent liquid which allowed him to preserve tissue against decay for months, even years. That allowed Frankenstein and his friend Henry Clerval to quickly begin producing their first ouvriers, a word which entered English as “hoover”.

Much of this was long familiar to Locke, but a good deal was new. As he read, he felt a growing curiosity that he hadn’t had before, and wished he’d taken the time to study vitalogy prior to this assignment.

Locke thought about just how much Frankenstein and vitalogy had changed the world. From the moment Nereus had knocked on his door to now, there had hardly been a moment when he was out of sight of a two-legged hoover or a four-legged kimmer, to say nothing of the street flowers cushioning his feet and the ravens and rocs flying over his head. Even the luminous fungi in the ceiling and walls that provided the very light he was reading by was a product of the Vitalogical Revolution.

It occurred to Locke that he actually did have an “in” to the vitalogist community. Freddy Waldman, two doors down from his own room at the Decatur, was an assistant to Dr. Lavenza, who had a little workshop or surgery or whatever it was called that turned out some kind of fancy servant hoovers for the upscale market. If he could get Waldman to introduce him to Lavenza, he could interview the man, and gain access to other vitalogists. Locke would drop by Lavenza’s place of business and ask if he could interview him – it was unlikely, but there was no harm in asking, and it would give him an excuse to “happen” to run into Waldman as he was leaving for lunch. Locke could then suggest they get something together.

That reminded Locke that he was feeling hungry himself. He must have been reading in the morgue all morning, running on nothing but a spoonful of Blue Mass. He had better be about getting some nuncheon before trying to interview anyone.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "There are some things Man was not meant to know...."\\

Not Babysitting

Over and over I heard it: "Babysitting today?" Over and over, I gave the same reply, always with a perfectly straight face: "No, he's my kid." At least nobody ever asked Kathe where she got the gay nanny: http://echidneofthesnakes.blogspot.com/2012_05_27_archive.html#1384367121943060380 //The Magic Eight-Ball says: "Admit it, you'd have loved it if that had happened."\\

Kathe and I went to a neighborhood committee meeting. There was talk of forming a watch. If so, I will want to join just to make sure nobody is "carrying" like George Z. //The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Heaven forbid."\\

Do You Read Me?

Read from The Christmas Mutiny at the Interzone tonight. Not a big crowd but I managed to read a chapter out loud without choking, so I count it as a success. Now on to the next reading. Eight-Ball, where will I do a reading next? //The Magic Eight-Ball says, "TBA."\\

Kathe heard a coyote yipping and howling last night. Sounded like it was about five blocks away, she said. Okay, Corvallis is only about 50,000 people, and I saw one just a couple of miles outside of town, but still a wonderfully spooky (and trickstery) thing. Sorry I missed it. //The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Be careful of wishing for a visit from a trickster."\\

Shoot-'Em-Ups

I have finally noticed that I read comics in two modes: one for Persepolis and Vogelein, and another for Birds of Prey and 52. The latter serve for me the function Ace Double Novels did for my father (what he referred to as "shoot-'em-ups"). I think other people establish these categories early in life, often discarding one or the other entirely. Not sure what that means, either the division or the timing, but it's something I have noticed. //The Magic Eight-Ball says, "A rolling stone gathers momentum."\\

The Ink Fairy

Okay, that's just weird.*

Spots of inky black liquid are appearing at seemingly random places around the house. So far there is (no pun intended) no pattern we can make out.

I'm tempted to walk through the house saying, "When I said I was hoping for ink, I meant publicity for The Christmas Mutiny!"

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't look at me, my ink is all staying inside."\\

* I think I'll make this a new tag.

It's Up There

I stood on the porch and looked up at the evening sky. There was just one brilliant light, high and bright. I thought it was too high to be Venus, and therefore presumed it was Jupiter. Which was cool, because someone I know is particularly fond of Jupiter.

But I looked it up, and it was indeed Venus.

But that's okay, because one way or another, it was Brightly Shining.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Shine on."\\

God Damn It All

http://pandagon.net/index.php/site/comments/a-young-black-man-being-late

Emmett Till was an awfully cute kid, too . . . .

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Inch by inch, row by row."\\

Goodlife

During his campaign, Gardner promised average voters would inspire his actions. One ad said, “I will always put Colorado families before the Washington special interests.” But in Key Largo, Gardner appeared to offer special interests lots of face time. He was seen on camera talking to an attendee who said he works for a bank. In another shot, he’s seen going charter fishing as part of the fundraising package—they head out on a group of boats including one named “Good Life.”

Re the S.S. Good Life, two references come to mind.
One is the obvious, the short story "It's a Good Life", that was made into a Twilight Zone episode (and a Simpsons Halloween special, also).
The other is even more pointed, that in Fred Saberhagen's Berzerker stories, when a human chose to serve the killer robots in their crusade against organic life, s/he was called a "Goodlife". I have long felt that this word, like "robot" and "flash mob", should make the transition from science fiction jargon to common language.
The Repub party, long under the influence of people who have turned Goodlife, has now fallen completely under their sway.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Live long and prosper."\\

So, I Hear There's This Doonesbury Strip . . . .

Some newspapers don't want to run it.

http://www.poughkeepsiejournal.com/assets/pdf/BK186474313.PDF

Others are only putting it up on their web sites -- that way, kids won't see it, I suppose.

http://www.gocomics.com/doonesbury/2012/03/12

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Some people have no sense of humor."\\

Christopher Robin and Pooh Come to an Enchanted Place

Tonight I read the last chapter of The House at Pooh Corner to a little boy, and we talked about it a little.

I remember my mother reading to me from that book (especially the Woozle sighting), but I definitely don't remember her reading me the ending.

Possibly she thought it would be too confusing for me. Or possibly she was simply interrupted by her fast-changing life, back when she was a college student and the mother of three preschoolers (good grief!). Or perhaps, knowing what a fickle child I was, I one day said, "Winnie the Pooh! Yuck! I'm not a baby!"

I read Winnie the Pooh to my own kids, but we never got around to The House at Pooh Corner. Not sure why that happened, either.

But I by-Christopher-Robin did read that last chapter to one little boy, anyway.

For whatever that's worth.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Leave them there."\\

The Christmas Mutiny, Now Available

My novel, The Christmas Mutiny, is now available for download at Amazon.

I hope people read it, and like it.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "They will, John. It's good."\\

Where Does It Hurt?

On my right side, near the lowest ribs, when I take a deep breath.

My left shoulder aches some days.

My right knee hurts occasionally, when weight-bearing.

My right shin hurts some days, with or without weight-bearing.

Both wrists ache occasionally. It doesn't feel the same as the hand pain that led me to have to wear hand braces at night and eventually to having surgery on one hand.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Watch and see how it changes."\\

Another Minor Loss

Awhile back at some web site or other, Kathe and I saw people discussing the moral blind spots of previous generations, and speculating on what our descendants might be appalled at our tolerating.

I'd like to nominate our persistence in pretending that dental and optical care somehow aren't health care, and shouldn't be covered on the same plan, or even at all.

Just the other day, Kathe told me that I couldn't have any more dental problems until she'd had some deferred maintenance taken care of on her own teeth. Alas, I woke up at 5:30 this morning with a toothache that hadn't gotten the memo.

A root canal and crown would have cost a thousand dollars we didn't have, so I got to have an extraction for $80. We didn't have the $80 either, but we might get it sometime relatively soon.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "At least it's over."\\

Another Small Sacrifice

Without my beard I look less jolly and ingratiating.

But more respectable. And younger.

I really dislike shaving every day. And I don't care much for having stubble.

Oh, well. Maybe this will help me get a new job. Something's got to do it.

Oh, wait, no it doesn't. Maybe I just won't get another job, ever.

Still, if I quit trying, I definitely won't.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It does make you look younger, though."\\

Camelot 1:16:48 -- Look Familiar?

In 1967, even George Lucas didn't know who C-3PO and Princess Amidala were -- so what gives?



And how on Earth did it take until 2012 for someone (me) to notice?

Oh, also: We made it to Aumsville today.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Sometimes a coincidence means something really profound. Other times, it's just this thing that happened."\\

Bit Wet

We awoke to a drip from the ceiling. The pan that was supposed to catch the drip had overflowed due to very heavy rainfall.

We went out so Kathe could serve some papers and were first amused by swollen creeks, then annoyed by water crowding the lanes, then alarmed by overflow running right over the roadway, and finally blocked by flooding that cut off one route and then another.

We never did make it to Aumsville.

Oh, and in a non-rain-related matter, our daughter Mestowet called from Georgia. It was good to hear from her. I also noticed something that I hadn't before: whenever I hear from one of our kids, I think of how grateful I am to Kathe for making it possible for me to know them. That's true of each of my kids, as much as if she had borne them: I wouldn't have known any of them if it weren't for her. Thank you, Kathe.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I'm glad you made it back safely."\\

Lights Out

This site is observing the Internet Blackout.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "-------"\\

New Web Site Coming Soon

Soon, if all goes well, the link above these words will be live, and my web site, designed by Kathe's son Jake, will be up and running, offering my stories for sale.

Jake asked me to write summaries of some of my stories for the site:

The Christmas Mutiny, a Young Adult novel of alternative history, about 50,000 words.
Several young people are present at the famous Christmas Truce of 1914, in which for a brief moment enemies lay down their arms and enjoyed a moment of peace. History says that after the truce, they went back to killing one another for another three years -- but perhaps there are other worlds than ours...?

"Rattler Lil", a Western fantasy, about 4,000 words
An adolescent boy finds a surrogate mother, as do many other strays in a frontier town. Miss Lillian Clay seems to be a good person to have around, especially where children and rattlesnakes are concerned. And there may be more to "Mama Lil" than the neighbors suspect.

"The Right Man", a story of alternative history, about 2,000 words.
It's the fall of 1932. The Great Depression is at its worst. An army of unemployed men are occupying the Mall in Washington. How will President Hoover remove them? He needs to find the right man for this job.

"Frankie", an incident at a 1930s candy store, about 1,500 words.
Is Frankie really that Frankie? What race is pulp magazine her Dusty Ayres? Why doesn't Frankie listen to The Romance of Helen Trent? None of these questions will be answered.

"Secret Identity", a writer's thoughts at work, about 1,000 words.
What makes a man a hero? Can we always tell? Do we need to?

"Gandhi Versus Hitler", a story of alternative history, about 1,000 words
Everybody knows Gandhi could never have stopped Hitler. Everybody knows that....

"The Salmon Cage", a science fiction story, about 5,000 words.
An old man ties his boat to a salmon maturing cage while it drifts across the Pacific from Macao to Canada. A silent boy stows away. Much against the old man's wishes, they gradually bond during a very difficult crossing.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Good. Now go make some money with it."\\

List of Defunct Automakers

Could be useful for writing historical or alternate-world fiction.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_defunct_United_States_automobile_manufacturers

And while I'm at it, here are links to fictional car companies:

http://dictionary.sensagent.com/list+of+fictional+companies/en-en/#Automotive
http://www.coloradostangs.com/auto-news/24985-auto-autoline-after-hours-holding-first-annual-automotive-fantasy-draft-%5Bw-video%5D.html
http://nerowolfe.org/htm/tidbits/tidbits.htm#heron

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Have you driven a Heron lately?"\\

The Year Ends

Was it a good year for you?

Yeah, me neither.

No job, acute emotional depression, dubious prospects for the new year.

My father died, my grandmother died, and other things were difficult also.

The first post in this blog was titled, "It's Easy to Get Discouraged". It still is.

I am taking antidepressants, and they help some, but not enough, really. I wish I could go back into therapy, but we really can't afford it, and my former therapist has moved away. I am looking for a support group for the long-term unemployed, but there doesn't seem to be one. Maybe I should start one.

On the other hand, we did get the water out of the oil tank so the heater runs again. And we got the mud out of the kitchen sink drain so water runs through it again. I finished my first novel, and possibly it will bring in some money. That'd be good.

And the new year...will be a new year. Anything could happen.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "Put one foot in front of the other. Repeat."\\

Corvallis From Above

Here and there around Corvallis, there are aerial photos and aerial views of the city:

At the OSU Registrar, a painting dated 1932.
In the lobby of the Park Plaza Apartments at 124 NW 7th Street, a painting from the 1960s.
Upstairs at the Corvallis-Benton County Public Library, a photo from 1999.
At the city water department, a photo from the 2010s.
At the historical museum in the old Philomath College building, a painting of a speculation of "Corvallis in 2057" which was, fortunately, quite inaccurate in most details.

//The Magic-Eight-Ball says, "Perspective helps."\\

Peace On Earth

I have just read Nate Powell's Any Empire, and I like it rather a lot.

It tells, in a non-linear fashion, about how children's "missions", the play which they approach in absolute earnest, shapes their choices in adult life.

I am especially reviewing it here because one of Powell's young protagonists is deeply impressed by the classic cartoon "Peace on Earth", which deeply impressed me, and remains one of my own holiday favorites.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "People say war exists because of 'the nature of the beast', and they are right, but the beast in question is not Homo sapiens but Leviathan."\\

No American Blackout!

In honor of American Censorship Day, I am turning my blog black.
Sorry if it hurts your eyes.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "I'm a good deal more conservative than John, and even I think Federal online censorship is a bad idea, much less giving corporations veto power."\\

Boy, Does My Back Hurt

It started hurting on Friday afternoon, and it hasn't stopped yet.

At times it has been really, really bad. Naproxen helped. So did Cyclobenzaprine. A shot of Toradol at Immediate Care helped a whole lot. Also an electric heating pad and frequent hot soaks in the tub.

Kathe is taking good care of me.

Mostly, though, I'm just waiting for it to get better.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't despair. It will get better."\\

Occupy Corvallis

I told people attending tonight's meeting in Corvallis's Central Park that by the time they got home they'd be able to view http://groups.yahoo.com/group/OccupyCorvallis and http://OccupyCorvallis.blogspot.com, and here they are.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't forget the already-existing FaceBook page."\\

Questions From Sierra

My niece Sierra sent me an e-mail:

Could you please answer some questions for my family history project? here are 5 questions.


1.What was your life like when you were young?
My parents were college students, living in rented accommodations until I was six years old. I didn’t really understand what all of that meant, other than that Daddy went to “the school” every day to collect “day-da” for his “diss-ree-tation”, and that this was very important work.
Spending my childhood in an academic setting, I learned a great deal, and developed a large vocabulary from an early age. I absorbed concepts like cultural parallax and the need to test an hypothesis. I also absorbed an intellectual snobbery that I didn’t notice for the longest time, making it all that harder to discard.

2.What were people afraid of when you were young?
People talked a lot about pollution and about social changes that seemed to threaten civilization, but above all about the threat of nuclear war. Although my parents tried to divert me from thinking about it, I lived under the threat of destruction until I was twenty-nine years old. I went to school suspecting I would not live to grow up. I joined the Navy because I thought it might be safer than being drafted into the Army when Ronald Reagan inevitably went too far. I got married and had a child still under that shadow, because life did have to go on. It was not until Kathe and I saw the Berlin Wall being demolished that we really believed it was over.

3. What is a story from your childhood?
One day, Dad had been working on an old radio, the kind that was the size of a cabinet and stood on the floor, with a huge green light like an eye at the center of the dial. He talked about how much fun he and his siblings had, listening to old radio shows. He turned it on, joking that since it was an old radio, perhaps it would bring in an old radio show…and it did.
We listened, rapt, to an episode of Chandu the Magician. When it ended, the announcer came on and told us we were listening to the Old Time Radio Hour on KEX 1190 AM. We wound up listening to KEX every night, and recorded episodes on cassette tapes. But I will never forget the eerie experience of hearing those voices and sound effects coming through the radio just as Dad had predicted.

4. What is the bravest thing you’ve ever done?
Bicycling home from work after a night shift, I came upon a group of men standing over a fallen jogger. None of them seemed to know what to do. She had a pulse but wasn’t breathing, so I dove in and started giving her mouth to mouth. I gave her breaths until I couldn’t find a pulse, and then started CPR. To spare the others from the risk of infection, I gave her all of the breaths while they took turns giving chest compressions.
One of the men peeled back her eyelid and said, “There’s no pupillary response. I don’t think we need to bother.” I heard the voice of Sergeant Preston of the Yukon shouting, “We will continue until we are relieved!” – and it was me. That’s literally how it felt at the time.
An ambulance came and took over. I went home and went to bed. I heard later that the woman had died, but I knew we had done our part.
They always tell you at CPR classes that the person in charge at an emergency was whoever spoke up first, but I never thought that would be me.

5.What is one thing you’re proud of?
I am very proud of whatever role I have played in how my children have turned out. Some of them were half-grown when I got them, and none of them were related to me genetically, but I did what I could for them. They had many difficulties to overcome, and some of their problems could not be solved, but all four of them have faced and are facing life on their own terms with tremendous courage and persistence.


//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Teach the children well."\\

OMTA Meeting

Kathe and I just got back from the Eugene edition of the annual meeting of the Oregon Massage Therapy Association. The theme of the meeting was keeping your business afloat during the current difficult times.

I noticed that in addition to the meeting being divided into Eugene and Portland editions, almost everything else at the meeting was oriented to either Portland or Eugene. No big surprise, since those are the largest centers of massage activity, but as Kathe put it, there was a distinct lacuna, and we were in it.

So now I am thinking about setting up a mid-Valley chapter covering the Philomath-Corvallis-Albany-Lebanon area, extending maybe as far as Salem and Sweet Home. I will be contacting local LMTs to see what they think of the idea.

I Suspect This Is Not Going to Feel Good Either

Carpal Tunnel Release surgery in the morning.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Adulthood. What fun."\\

They Broke It

I used to be a free-market anarchist, but that was back when the free market hadn't been broken.

Now? The rotters have broken it as thoroughly as they broke the Code of Honor.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "This is why we can't have nice things."\\

Now, This Does Not Feel Good

I have had chest spasms and pains on rare occasions for years, but every test and exam indicated that my heart was in fairly good shape given my overall physical condition, but after today, I am wondering.

Chest pains, a vague sick feeling, no energy -- it does not feel very good at all. I took one of Kathe's nitroglycerine tablets and it seemed to help a little. A few hours later I took another.

I do not feel good right now, no I do not.

Dying right now would really stink.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It usually does."\\