Digital Fortress

Lonely No More

2011-10-31T01:15:00.027-05:00

He was a lonely boy. If you were to try and pick him out of a group, you’d be wrong. He would be the other one. Over to the side, by himself. The one your eye just passed over.

He had no real friends among his classmates. The other children admired his brother and the teachers were all delighted to have his sister in their class. He however, was rarely noticed at all.

Although he was basically ignored by everyone else, a week never went by without his brother physically torturing him or his sister verbally humiliating him in some manner.

The day he finally decided to leave was after his brother sat on his face and farted on him. His sister responded by laughing and calling him a word he didn’t understand. His complaints to his father were met with a snort and an easygoing chiding of “Sean, you know better than to play so rough with him.” to his brother. His mother, although more sympathetic, explained that the word his sister used referred to an ancient group of cave dwelling people and that both he and his brother were indeed acting as such with all their horseplay.

He could not tell you for sure when he first thought about running away but he had been planning it for some time. In the garage he had hidden an old backpack with supplies, a pair of jeans with a hole in one of the knees (that his mother had told him to throw away), two pairs of socks, a blanket, a flashlight, some beef jerky, a few candy bars and his entire life savings; forty-two dollars and fifteen cents.

The next day his parents had gone out entrusting his brother and sister to watch him. His brother was soon engrossed playing a video game on the Xbox 360 in the living room while his sister was upstairs in her room reading and listening to music on her iPod. This left him totally unsupervised. Giving him the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

He went to the kitchen, took two bottles of water from the refrigerator then went out to the garage to retrieve his backpack of supplies. Then with one last look at his house he started walking.

Soon he found himself on the outskirts of town heading north on a rural road he believed led to the highway. Once he there he hoped to get a ride from a sympathetic person to a different place where he could start his new life. The sun was high in the sky. He was hungry so he ate one of his candy bars and washed it down with a bottle of water before he realized that he had just drank half his water supply.

He came to an overpass where he could hear running water down below. There was a burbling river that ran beneath it and into the woods. He was thinking to himself that he could replenish his water bottle when another thought came to him. He remembered his sister saying something about “…all rivers flowed into the sea.” He had never been to the sea. He decided to clamber down the embankment and follow the river.

He followed the river deep into the woods enjoying the sound it made and how it splashed over rocks. After some time he came to a fork with a path leading away from the river. It was beginning to get dark so he decided to take the path and find somewhere to rest for the night thinking he could return by the path to the river again tomorrow and continue his trek to the sea.

The path brought him to an open field with what appeared to be an old derelict farm with a small copse of trees to one side. The farm house looked unpleasant and the barn unsafe with its roof mostly caved in. He made his way across a pasture and over a broken down fence towards the trees giving the house a wide berth. It felt like the empty windows of the farmhouse were like eyes, watching his every move.

After rummaging in his backpack for some beef jerky and his blanket using the bag as a pillow he settled down on a bald patch of grass beneath one of the trees. “I wonder if they are looking for me yet.” He imagined his parents yelling at his brother and sister and how worried and sorry they all were now. He thought how there would be police men with dogs all trying to find him. “I’ll make it to the sea and get a job on a fishing boat.” he smiled. “Then one day I’ll be the captain of my own boat!” With these thoughts running through his head he soon fell asleep.

He awoke hours later, bright moonlight lighting up the field and the small group of trees. Languidly stretching he got up to relieve himself. As he was zipping up a voice behind him said “Where did you come from?” He slowly turned around, not scared, not yet, and looked around.

A shadow detached itself from the tree he had slept under and there, he was relieved to see, stood a boy, not unlike him but with blond hair and a crooked smile.

“I’m Isaiah, what are you doing here?”

He paused a moment and then replied “I’m running away from home.”

“Wow!” said Isaiah “You sure are brave!”

The boy grinned, embarrassed at the compliment.

“You want a candy bar?” he asked Isaiah “I still have half of one left or maybe some beef jerky?”

For a brief moment Isaiah looked sad as he shook his head but his smile soon returned as he said “You want to play a game?”

The boy beamed, he was rarely ever included in any games at school and his brother and sister could never be bothered to play with him.

“What would you like to play?”

Isaiah walked up to him tapped him on the shoulder “Tag!” “You’re It!” and then ran laughing across the field. The boy laughed and quickly ran after him.

They played tag through the field, climbed a few trees and were now walking along the river bank skipping rocks and talking. The boy told Isaiah about cartoons and television shows he enjoyed but Isaiah didn’t seem to know much about any of them so he changed the subject.

“Do you live around here?” asked the boy as they walked on.

“Not far.” answered Isaiah.

“You don’t live in that old creepy farm house do you?

“No, nobody lives in there.” Isaiah sighed and said “Actually, I ran away from home too.”

“Cool!” the boy exclaimed. Then, more timidly “Maybe we can run away together.” “I was thinking of following the river to the sea.”

They were back at the copse of trees. It was a beautiful October night, warm as summer and the harvest moon dominated the night sky.

“That sounds like a good idea, going to the sea...” Isaiah hesitated.

“You’ll come with me then?” the boy asked eagerly.

Isaiah turned to the boy and said “If you do something for me then I might.”

“I thought I finally found a friend” said the boy and started skulking away.

Isaiah chased after him “Hey, we are friends...we can be friends...forever...but I’ve got to know I can trust you.” “That I can count on you.”

The boy looked up “You promise?”

Isaiah put his arm around the boy's shoulder “Yeah, I promise.”

This brought a smile to the boy's face “Okay, what do I have to do?”

“You ran away from home so you’re brave but are you as brave as me?” Isaiah turned them both to face the ramshackle farm house and pointed. “I left my haversack in there and I can’t leave without it so I want you to go in there and bring it back to me.”

“I...I...don’t...know...” stammered the boy.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Isaiah asked.

Of course he was scared and of course he said he was not. He didn’t want to lose his only friend.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

The boy took his flashlight from his pack and made his way toward the dilapidated farm house until he stood before the crumbling door hanging open on its hinges. Hesitant to enter, he stood wondering if this was a good idea. He could smell damp and rot and something else underneath.

When a strange shuffling noise came from inside he jumped back and exclaimed “I thought you said it was empty!”

“It isn’t empty.” “I said nobody lives in there.” Isaiah giggled. “Now get in there and bring my bag to me.”

“It must have been just an animal.” the boy muttered to himself.

He then squared his shoulders and entered the farm house.

The darkness inside was oppressive and thick. His flashlight appearing to cut through it like a knife. In the hall he could see entry ways to rooms on either side. He paused thinking to himself that he should have asked where exactly the bag was. If he went back outside to ask now though, empty handed, Isaiah might think he was chickening out and change his mind about coming with him. Worse he didn’t think he’d be able to muster up enough courage to come back inside either. He’d just have to search.

The boy came to a room with a tattered old mattress and moldering furniture. Here he started searching intently thinking that the other boy might have laid down here to rest. Suddenly he hears a loud rustling noise behind him. Startled, he quickly turns around, his flashlight beam bouncing off everything trying to find the source of the sound, only to see a field mouse bursting out from beneath some decomposing trash and scurrying under a broken dresser.

Stifling a scream and breathing deeply to regain his composure he moves back out into the hall saying to himself “See it was only a small mouse...nothing to be scared of...”

Toward the back of the house he finds an open door with some stairs leading down. "I've looked everywhere up here...it's gotta be down there."

He slowly makes his way down the creaking stairs to a dirt floor. It’s hot and there is a horrible smell down here which is almost palpable. It smelled not unlike rotting meat but underneath there was something horrid, fetid and slimy.

In a dark corner he finds it. Isaiah’s...what did he call it...haversack? It was ripped open though and all the contents spilled onto the floor. Some old rotted clothing, putrid tin cans with no labels, a dusty canteen, rusty pocket knife...this doesn’t seem right. He shrugs the idea off and starts to gather the items up and stuff them back into the bag when he hears that strange shuffling noise again.

He isn’t about to be scared by a mouse again though so he finishes stuffing the items into the bag, slips the strap over his shoulder and turns to go back upstairs thinking of he and Isaiah on a boat together on the big blue sea and smiles to himself.

That’s when he notices that the house has gone eerily quiet.

A shiver goes down his spine and his smile fades. He begins to shine his flashlight around when out of the darkness something steps right in front of him...

He moves the beam of light up the dark figure in front of him. He doesn't understand what he is looking at...the smile...there's something wrong with it...there are way too many teeth.

Outside Isaiah listened as the boy’s screams echo across the field, bounce off the trees and then abruptly come to an end.

Isaiah smiled his crooked smile. He knew that later, after the body was buried under one of the trees, maybe even next to his own, the moon would rise tomorrow and then he would be lonely no more.

~HAPPY HALLOWEEN!~

Go Elf Yourself!

2010-12-06T22:50:00.000-06:00

Like most people, I tend to only think about elves when reading one of J. R. R. Tolkien's books or around Christmas time.

An elf is a creature of Germanic mythology. The elves were originally thought of as a race of human like creatures who are often pictured as youthful seeming men and women of great beauty living in forests and underground places such as caves. They have been portrayed to be very long lived and as beings of great magical powers.

As far as I can tell there seem to be only six skills that an elf tends to have so although the versatility of these pointy-eared little freaks is not that great they do seem to exceed at what they can do.

Toy Makers

Most commonly elves are known as tireless workers employed in Santa's Workshop making the toys that Santa Claus delivers to all the good little girls and boys on Christmas Eve.

Shoemakers

Perhaps not so commonly known is that elves can craft leather shoes so fine that they would make an Indonesian Nike sweatshop worker cry himself to sleep.

When the shoemaker in the story finally catches a glimpse of the elves at work he notices that they are all buck naked. For safety's sake and as a means of saying "thanks" he decides to knit them some clothing. The elves take the clothing and never return.

Elves can make toys and shoes, but can't make themselves shirts and pants? Maybe it's a strange rite of passage. All elves have to start out making shoes until someone gets tired of looking at their butts and gives them something to wear. Only then can they change craft.

Bakers

Elves seem to prefer doing their baking in large hollow trees, despite the enormous fire hazard. Each year hundreds of elves and woodland creatures die in baking related forest fires, but their chocolate chip cookies taste awesome, so its a statistic I can live with.

Cereal Makers

Snap, Crackle and Pop are best known for inventing Rice Krispies cereal. Legend has it they had a fourth brother named "Soggy," who died suspiciously the night before the cereal was unveiled in 1928. The three assailants were never found.

Archers

If the Lord of the Rings has taught us one thing about elves its that when they are not sending out joy in the form of toys, cereal and cookies, they are sending razor sharp arrows deep into the skulls of their enemies. A good rule of thumb is: Don't bother them, and you won't get an arrow in your eye.

Dentists

In at least one documented case, a misfit elf named Hermey quit Santa's Workshop to strike out on his own and become a practicing dentist. Maybe he was a cousin of the Tooth Fairy or something. He was last seen crying on a glacier after trying to perform a root canal on a Yeti.

Now that you've got all that elf-ing information...

Click the picture and go and Elf Yourself!

Happy Friday The 13th!

2010-08-13T07:52:00.005-05:00

It's Friday the 13th and as a public service I have compiled a list of suggestions that I feel will keep you safe from harm...

Survival Tip #1: If you see a black cat, shoot it.
Better to be safe than sorry.

Survival Tip #2: Use up all your bad luck early.
You can only have so much bad luck in a single day, so just start trying to use your whole quota of it by lunch. Tempt fate through such activities as cleaning your toaster with a fork, picking a fight with a gorilla or cleaning your ears with a nail gun.

Survival Tip #3: Don't talk about Fight Club.
Even if you are a beautiful and unique snowflake, just don't.

Survival Tip #4: Don't let the Jehovah's Witnesses in.
Sure, three hundred and sixty four days out of the year they seem like nice folks who just want to share their crackpot religious dogma and a cup of Kool-Aid with you...but each year on Friday the 13th, they fatten their ranks by kidnapping people and forcing them to watch Veggie Tales until they convert.

Survival Tip #5: Refuse to recognize that it's Friday the 13th.
In many skyscrapers, superstitious builders make the floors jump from twelve to fourteen to avoid the unlucky thirteenth floor. As soon as you wake up today, say, "Wow, what a lovely day August the 14th is!"

Survival Tip #6: Leave the Earth by close of business April 13, 2029.
Be gone before the Near-Earth asteroid 99942 Apophis smashes into our planet and destroys the world as we know it.

Now you've got to ask yourself one question:

"Am I feeling superstitious?"

A Halloween Ghost Story

2009-10-26T20:00:00.006-05:00

There was an old farmhouse that, until it was torn down, stood in the middle of a three acre plot of land in Mansfield, Texas.

The land belongs to Season's parents, who had purchased the otherwise barren expanse with the intent of building a home on the northwest edge of the property closest to the main road. The home was built, the perimeter fenced, and the rest of the land used to hold the many pieces of heavy equipment that Season’s step-father, uses for his sand and gravel company. After toying with the idea of renovating the sixty year old farmhouse and turning it into a guest house, they decided against it and now only used it for storage.

Last summer, Season received an invitation from her parents for us to spend a few days at their home, so we packed our overnight bags and made the four hour drive from our home in Oklahoma, looking forward to a pleasant weekend.

For the record, Season and I share an interest in the paranormal. We both enjoy horror movies, scary novels, and the occasional worthwhile spooky documentary. We’ve also tried our hand at "ghost hunting" once during a ghost tour in San Antonio, Texas.

What really captures our imaginations; however, are EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) audio recordings. Some of the anomalies that we had heard on these recordings could easily be written off using more earthbound than otherworldly explanations, yet there are some that even a rational mind must admit are beyond the scope of common experience and understanding.

In any case, beyond having heard or read about such occurrences, we had never had a personal experience involving a disembodied voice.

Not until the weekend that we spent at Season’s parents' home, in July of 2007.

We arrived in Mansfield late on a Friday evening, and after a little catching up, we decided to turn in. Laying awake in bed talking, not quite able to sleep just yet, our conversation turned to the old farmhouse that stood about fifty yards off the south side of the house. I was as much enticed by the farmhouse's seemingly ancient, decrepit beauty as I was impressed by its subtle yet unmistakable air of foreboding. I mentioned how creepy it had looked to me under the light of the moon as we approached the house, and how perfect a setting it seemed for the types of hauntings I was so fond of reading about on dark wintry nights. I asked what it was like inside and she responded by telling me she didn't know, she had never been inside.

"My step-dad never let me inside." "He says it's not safe in there."

At breakfast the next morning though, the notion that I'd planted in her head was alive and kicking and she broached the subject of the old farmhouse with her step-father.

"It's a dangerous place, there's bats in the attic and I don't want you poking around in there," was all he would say when asked about it, attempting to turn the conversation from the subject at hand by asking if we wanted to ride the four wheelers after breakfast.

An hour after breakfast, Season informed me, with a mischievous grin, that we would be "investigating the old farmhouse" just as soon as her step-father headed into town on some errands. Gabriel had gone off with his grandmother to a water park so we would have the whole place to ourselves.

The sun was straight overhead as we approached the doorway of the old farmhouse. We hesitated at the entrance, casting a glance back at the house to ensure no lectures about venturing into unsound structures would be delivered over dinner that night. The door less entryway opened up to a fairly large room crowded with cardboard boxes and a large worktable stacked with various grease stained engine parts. To the right, there was yet another doorway that led into a much smaller room. The way into this room was made impenetrable by more stacks of boxes and crates. Off to the left, I saw an even smaller doorway that exposed a rickety flight of stairs leading, presumably, to the attic above.

The interior was fairly well-lit and we were both engrossed in our own thoughts and busily exploring when we heard the thump overhead.

I wish we'd had a video camera to record our reactions to this sound, because we both nearly jumped out of our skins.

I started to mutter "Did you hear that" when Season cut me off with a swatting of her arm and a sharp "Shhhhh!" Dead silence ensued for the next thirty seconds as we stood there until I finally spoke again in a whisper. "Could be the bats Buddy warned us about?” The noise came again, this time more distinct, not directly overhead but further toward the back, as of something in the far corner of the attic above our heads. Immediately our heads turned toward the doorway to our left, the doorway leading to the short flight of steps into the attic. Season was about to say something when it came a third time, actually loosening dirt from the rafters and punctuated by a dragging shuffle on the floorboards overhead.

I said "It sounds like there's someone up there..."What we heard next was a voice, soft and low, muffled by the rafters and the overhead floorboards that separated us from the attic and it called the words:

"David, is that you?"

One moment we were in that dark, stuffy farmhouse, the next we were out in the bright sunlight with the breeze blowing in our faces as we stepped lively through the tall grass back toward the main house. It was that quick, that synchronous.

Once away from whatever danger we may have been in or imagined we were in, within the safety of sunlight, you'd think that we would have found ourselves a safe space somewhere and sat talking about what we had heard, or what we thought we had heard, but we didn't. We simply turned heels quickly, left, and not another mention of the experience was had that day until we found ourselves in bed again late that night, unable to sleep and unable to forget.

I brought up the topic and we discussed what we thought we'd heard, and danced around a million different possible explanations for what it could have been, but the explanation that occurred to me as we lay there in bed, sleepless, was a bit more frightening.

"Maybe there's someone living up there that nobody knows about...

"The idea sent shivers up and down my spine, offering up images of escaped mental patients creeping onto unsuspecting people's properties in the dead of night and it alarmed me to the point where I actually got out of bed, stood at the window looking out onto the property offering a clear view of the moon washed farmhouse, and actually considered either going out there with a weapon from the house or calling the local police to check it out. We could have been mistaken in what we heard though and the last thing we wanted to do (apart from admitting to her step-father that we had betrayed his wishes to keep out) was call the police to investigate the overactive imaginings of a young couple.

So we determined that in the morning, we would go out to investigate yet again. This time as we approached the farmhouse (not having mentioned our concerns to her parents for fear of causing undue worry) I was armed with a baseball bat I'd found lying on the grass and Season, perhaps not entirely convinced the sounds had come from something living, with a long-handled flashlight and a mini-cassette recorder she found in the house.

Our second entrance to the farmhouse proved to be a lot more ordinary than my imagination had fancied it might be, and the notion that someone may have actually taken up residence in that ramshackle old home was quickly put to rest on a second look. Also the likeliness that anyone attempting to climb up the flight of stairs leading to the attic would most likely crash through the rotted wood and break a leg, or worse.

We stood listening in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Nothing, no sounds except for the occasional crack of the old wood settling. We decided that since we had come this far, we were damned if we were going to leave without a good and thorough search and so we set about the task of figuring out a way to ascend the steps leading to the attic.

I'd spotted a fairly fresh plank of wood about six feet long, two feet wide, and three inches thick, lying in the yard of the farmhouse as we approached, so I came up with the idea that perhaps we could lay the plank lengthwise across the top of the steps to crawl up.

Once we had constructed the ramp and after another five minutes quietly arguing over who should be the first to go, I went up the length of the plank. By this time the sun had emerged and the sunlight cast through the holes in the roof was good enough so that I could see everything. As I stood on the floorboards of the attic, determining if they were in well enough shape to sustain my weight, I scanned the large area before me, baseball bat at the ready.

When I look back on it I honestly don't know what I was expecting to see up there in the attic, but whatever it may have been, whether flesh and bone or otherwise, there was nothing to be found. Only a severely rusted bedspring, an equally old mattress leaning askew against the near wall, a scattering of crates, and a decrepit rocking chair that sat in the farthest corner of the attic facing the wall.

I stood there staring at the back of that chair until Season's voice, directly behind me, startled me out of my daze. "It’s empty." I turned around to find that as I'd stood there taking an inventory of the space before me, she had made her way up the plank and into the attic.

She was aiming the beam of her flashlight and scanning the attic. "So much for our stranger in the attic theory." I added, motioning to the inch-thick layer of dust that covered every visible square foot of the floorboards. If anyone had been in the attic, it was a long, long time before we had ever arrived. I'm not sure how long we stood there, but it was long enough for the two of us to determine that none of our explanations fit what we had heard.

As we turned to begin our descent back down our makeshift ramp, Season stopped and fished a blank cassette out of her pocket and inserted it into the recorder. I said something like "Hey, don't bother, let’s just get out of here." but she informed me that she was going to leave the micro-cassette behind in RECORD mode. She set it down on one of the floorboards just inside the attic entryway. "Just to satisfy my curiosity," she said and we left.

We never did tell anyone what we had been up to that day, or the day previous. We were set to head back home early the following morning and we both agreed it was far better to exchange pleasantries on the final evening of our visit rather than to choke the air with questions about previous tenants, the history of the land, or the possibility of spirits that linger after death. According to Season, things like that didn't go over too well with her step-father.

We realized that in order to retrieve the cassette recorder Season had left behind, we would not only have to brave the rickety ramp of our invention once again, but we'd also have to make it out there early enough so that her no one would see us. We also decided that it would be best to take down the makeshift ramp, so proof of our actions wouldn't be discovered. We resolved to wake up half an hour before dawn and sneak out to the old farmhouse one last time.

When we got there, this time stepping our way through the dark with the aid of a flashlight, everything was just as we'd left it. No signs of any ghostly disturbance, no violently overturned boxes, no footprints in the dust other than those we'd created ourselves. I cautiously but hurriedly crawled my way up the wooden plank, reached a hand into the darkness, and retrieved the cassette recorder which was in the exact place we had left it the day before. I made my way down and we took down the ramp.

I was patting the dust and dirt from my pants legs when it came again. The same sudden, sharp thump that we had heard two days prior. My first thought was that Season must have heard something moving up there before the thump sounded, because when I looked at her, her head was already turned upwards and her eyes were fixed on the attic entrance directly above us. My eyes followed her stare and I looked up, but there was nothing discernible in the darkness beyond the threshold. Season had just began to ask me if I'd heard it too but her words broke off when another thud, this time more jarring than the first, almost violent in its force, sent a fistful of dust shooting from the rafters. The horrible, sickening shuffling sound came next, and the image that entered my mind then was that of someone, or something, dragging itself across the floor almost directly over our heads, approaching the attic entry.

In an instant the two of us were stumbling through the dark toward the front entrance and within five seconds we were back out into the cool predawn air. As we passed through the doorway of the old farmhouse for the last time, we heard the voice again, this time much closer, coming from atop the attic stairs where we had stood only seconds ago, this time much clearer, raspy, nearly gravelly, calling after us. And the words it said were:

"David...don't leave me all alone!"

We stopped about ten feet short of her parents' back porch and tried to regain our composure. Season suddenly remembered the micro-cassette recorder, checked it out closely and announced "It's turned off…halfway through the tape.” “As if someone shut it off on purpose." I tried to reason that maybe the batteries had run out, but she quickly dispelled that notion when she pressed the REWIND button and it kicked immediately into life. It only took a few seconds for the tape to reach the start of the spool, and just as she was about to press the PLAY button, the back door swung open and Season's mother, Charla, was standing there in her morning robe.

"What are you two doing up so early?" she asked. "Oh, just getting the car situated" I quickly replied and we darted back inside the house to have breakfast.

It wasn't until we said our farewells, and hit the road once again; all the while warily eyeing the old farmhouse as we made our way down the long gravel driveway headed for the main road with Gabriel safely conked out in the back seat; that we were finally alone and able to listen to what it was that may have been recorded.

I wasn't certain that anything would have come through on the tape, but I wanted to be able to listen without having to strain to hear over sound of the engine so as soon as we'd gone about a mile, I pulled the car off to the side of the road under the shade of a tree and shut the engine off.

The first sound head on the tape were Season's own words ("Just to satisfy my curiosity"), then the creaking and groaning of the floorboards and the racket of our footfalls as we made our way down the plank and exited the farmhouse. Five minutes of silence ensued, only the occasional sound of the old structure settling in on itself, then another five or six minutes, then the sound of an airplane flying by in the distance, then more silence. Just as the tape was about to reach the point where it had mysteriously stopped on itself, I heard something...

On first impression it sounded like someone breathing in short, shallow breaths. I was opening my mouth to ask Season to stop the tape and rewind it, when I realized the sound was only getting louder. I could tell by the expression on Season's face that I was not, in fact, hearing things. She was hearing it too. What came next, though, sent shivers down my spine and made the sounds we'd heard in the farmhouse, frightening and inexplicable though they were, seem like nothing more than a precursor. The breaths seemed to be getting louder, and although no sound of movement could be heard, I got the distinct impression that something was drawing nearer to the microphone. It frightened me to think that the very cassette recorder Season now held in trembling hands could have come so close to, or may even have been touched by, whatever it was that was causing that horrible sound.

The breathing faded, almost abruptly, followed by approximately ten seconds of absolute silence.

Then the singing began. It was quite unmistakably, and most distinctly, the voice of a woman and although I could not make out the words, she was singing something. A lullaby, perhaps? To this day I am not sure, even though we've listened to the tape hundreds of times since and have tried amplifying the sound through various means. It is certainly not a melody I, or Season, or anyone else we've shared the recording with, are familiar with.

It isn't that horrible breathing or the faint yet undeniable strain of song delivered by that mysterious voice that still, to this day, haunts my mind in the quiet dark before sleep overtakes me. Rather, it is the final three seconds of that recording that will always stay with me, and will always serve as proof to my mind that despite our best efforts to argue to the contrary, there are things that happen in this life that are beyond the bounds of rational explanation.

The singing voice stopped abruptly and was replaced by a dry, hoarse giggle. A hideous, insane laughter that erupted into a cackle just as an invisible finger reached out, brushed against the microphone, and pressed STOP.

~HAPPY HALLOWEEN!~

Moon River...

2009-09-24T18:17:00.011-05:00

It's Official: Water has been found on the Moon!

Since man first travled to the Moon and brought pieces of it back to Earth, scientists have thought that the lunar surface was bone dry, but new observations from three different spacecraft have apparently found the presence of water on the Moon…kind of.

And by kind of, I mean it’s in very small amounts (one ton of the top layer of the lunar surface would hold about thirty-two ounces of water), and that a lot of it is not comprised of a complete molecule of water, but is instead found as a hydroxyl molecule (OH-), a water molecule with a hydrogen atom stripped off.

Also, the amounts seem to fluctuate in rhythm with the lunar day, so it looks like the Sun has something to do with this. Scientists speculate the hydrogen in the solar wind may be blasting the surface of the Moon, freeing oxygen from the rocks there and binding with it to form OH- and water.

Of course, there may be water below the surface and one easy way to find out how much is to crash a probe into it!

Finding water on the moon would be a boon to possible future lunar bases, acting as a potential source of drinking water and fuel.

I was thinking of a way to market this new discovery and there appears to already be a company that distributes bottled water named: Moon Water The Low Gravity Water.

So, after it's colonized I'm thinking of building a microbrewery on the surface of the Moon.

Lunar Brew/Moonshine made from real Moon water. Delicious.

International Talk Like A Pirate Day!

2009-09-19T18:11:00.004-05:00

Avast, ye scallywags! Today is International Talk Like A Pirate Day!

The observance, started by John "Ol' Chumbucket" Baur and Mark "Cap'n Slappy" Summers, gained widespread renown when it was mentioned by Dave Barry in his nationally syndicated newspaper column seven years ago.

Talk Like a Pirate Day came to be when Baur and Summers, in the middle of a friendly raquetball match, found the game was more fun when punctuated with pirate utterances so they decided to make a day of it. Since then, the day has spawned celebrations around the world, including pirate-themed bar crawls, charity walks and plenty of other events with a healthy dose of pirattitude.

Happy Memorial Day

2009-05-25T03:57:00.005-05:00

Memorial Day is much more than a three-day weekend that marks the beginning of summer. To many people, especially the nation's thousands of combat veterans, this day, which has a history stretching back all the way to the Civil War, is an important reminder of those who died in the service of their country. The defense of liberty is the enduring thread that connects the selfless service of an American soldier today with the similar service of a patriot who came to the defense of this great nation through the ages.

I take enormous pride in how my fellow servicemen have fought, how they lived, and now take time to truly remember their sacrifice. Our brave men and women in uniform – both past and present – are the storm that gives chase to evil and safe harbor to liberty. Their loss can and should be mourned, but their character and commitment should be celebrated. That is how our great warriors should be remembered on this day, Memorial Day.

To those who served and those who continue to serve, I salute you.

Minivan Highway

2009-04-14T11:20:00.002-05:00

Nothing much to report.

Busy with some contract work so enjoy this super delicious video.

Kraftwerk's Grandfathers?

Happy Easter!

2009-04-12T01:28:00.003-05:00

You can thank thirteen years of Catholic school education for my warped sense of humor.

Anyway, I'm taking a moment to remember what today means to me and it ain't about colored eggs, chocolate or some stupid bunny.

Today, as we celebrate Easter, I would like to reflect on the resurrection of Jesus Christ and my gratitude for his sacrafice.

I hope you everyone has a wonderful day celebrating Easter with your families and friends in whatever manner you choose...as long as it does not involve that evil bastard The Easter Bunny.

After all - Jesus loves you, but The Easter Bunny sure as heck doesn't.

Just watch this video if you don't believe me...

Star Wars Girl Fight

2009-04-08T22:49:00.004-05:00

Impressive. Most impressive.

A Worthy Cause

2009-04-07T22:06:00.004-05:00

Five months ago our life changed drastically when Season was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.

Multiple sclerosis (MS) is an inflammatory, chronic, degenerative disorder that affects nerves in the brain and spinal cord. Myelin, the fatty substance that surrounds and insulates nerves and facilitates the conduction of nerve impulses is the initial target of inflammatory destruction in multiple sclerosis.

It's been an up hill battle, but Season is a very strong woman and a committed fighter so I have no doubt she will eventually win the war against this disease.

She has a big heart and she isn't just concerned about herself. Season doesn't want anyone else to have to go through the same issues she has on a day to day basis in her fight against MS.

Recently she has formed a team for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society’s Walk MS fundraising event.

Walk MS is the signature fundraising event of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. By participating in Walk MS you can know that you've shared a remarkable achievement with over two hundred and fifty thousand other walkers in more than seven hundred cities across the country, but most importantly, you'll be making a difference by raising essential funds for research and services for people with MS.

We will be personally participating in the walk to raise money to help find a cure for MS. This year’s goal is to raise over a million dollars. She has made a personal commitment to raise two thousand five hundred dollars and is hoping to surpass that amount.

This where you come in, she needs help to do it!

You can help in the efforts to end this devastating disease.

Please consider supporting with a tax-deductible donation to help her reach her fundraising goal.

Click here to make an online donation ---> Support Walk MS

Click here to visit Season's Blog ---> Destination...Season

I realize times are tough all around, but please every little bit counts so click on the links and help support a worthy cause.

Mankind Is No Island

2009-04-06T11:51:00.001-05:00

Seven hundred thousand people are homeless on any given night.

Seventy-six percent of homeless people who receive needed services like substance abuse treatment, education, and job training stop being homeless.

Eighty percent of homeless people who received subsidized housing remain stably housed.

However, less than one out of three people who are eligible for low-income housing, receive it.

For homeless youth, educational outreach programs, job training, and transitional living programs have proven very successful.

Forty percent of homeless people are veterans and the US Department of Veteran's Affairs has two major programs in place to provide health care, assessment, and referral to homeless veterans.

Studies show that these programs do help.

Homelessness is a condition that we have the power to end.

You can help to provide both temporary shelter and permanent solutions for the homeless by choosing a charity working to end homelessness.

Sympathy For The Empire?

2009-04-03T11:57:00.011-05:00

I am a big Star Wars fan and my favorite character is Darth Vader.

However, I do not side with The Galactic Empire even though I believe George Lucas favors this faction throughout all six movies.

If you factor in what must occur at the end of Revenge Of The Sith to tie in the original trilogy, Anakin must become Darth Vader, almost all of the Jedi are killed, and The Empire is formed to dominate the galaxy, it's clear that The Dark Side has consistently come out ahead and the inescapable conclusion is that Lucas supports The Empire.

Let's break it down:

Round One - The Phantom Menace

Although the climax of the movie appears to show our heroes prevailing over the evil Trade Federation, the future Galactic Empire takes the true victory by manipulating the event to seat Senator Palpatine, who will later become The Emperor, to the Senate.

Empire 1 - Republic 0

Round Two - Attack of the Clones

Palpatine continues to gain influence over the Senate. The Republic is duped yet again, this time into utilizing an army of cloned soldiers who will eventually dominate the galaxy as the Empire's Stormtroopers. Anakin is seduced by the dark side into killing an entire tribe of Tusken Raiders, but then strangely wins over Padmé after confessing to mass revenge killing. Chicks dig bad boys.

Empire 2 - Republic 0

Round Three - Revenge of the Sith

Anakin gives into The Dark Side and becomes Darth Vader, almost all of the Jedi are killed except for Yoda and Obi-Wan, liberty dies with thunderous applause and the newly formed Galactic Empire begins to ruthlessly take over the galaxy.

Empire 3 - Republic 0

Round Four - A New Hope

Okay, I realize Luke destroyed the Death Star in the climax and the heroes got shiny medals, but The Empire wiped out the entire planet of Alderaan. That's like the equivalent of the Japanese shooting down the Enola Gay after it nuked Hiroshima. It doesn't change the end result. It didn't even seem to effect The Empire that greatly. They even already had another Death Star being constructed.

Empire 4 - Republic 0

Round Five - The Empire Strikes Back

The title says it all. The Rebels are on the run, they get discovered on the planet Hoth and are defeated and forced to retreat. Han Solo gets frozen in Carbonite. Luke gets his ass kicked by Darth Vader.

Empire 5 - Republic 0

Round Six - Return of the Jedi

Yes, the second Death Star is destroyed and Darth Vader redeems himself by killing The Emperor before he also dies, but I don't think that necessarily means The Empire was truly knocked out.

Although, the deaths of Vader and Palpatine appeared to cause The Rebellion to topple The Galactic Empire like a house of cards, I think things were tied up far to quickly.

As recent history has taught us, you have to win the peace after you win the war. There would be a huge power vacuum within The Empire, with various Grand Moffs lining up to seize power. The Empire's infrastructure is still is place, short of a Death Star or two, but apparently, those can be made to be fully operational failry quickly so it couldn't be too long before The Rebels realized the war was far from over.

Because the movie ends before those ramifications were addressed, I'll be charitable and give this round to The Rebellion.

Let's go to the scorecard:

This gives The Empire a resounding 5-1 victory with The Rebels only scoring a TKO.

Which side of the force do you think Lucas is on?

Rockin' The Accordion Ukrainian Style

2009-04-02T18:38:00.006-05:00

Ukrainian band, Los Colorados, perform Katy Perry's Hot & Cold in their own unique style. Complete with accordion solo.

I want Los Colorados to play at my next birthday party. It should make up for the Ukrainian bride I ordered that got "lost" in the mail.

Diego: The Lil' Dirt Devil

2009-04-01T23:08:00.005-05:00

When I finally stopped laughing I had to ask:

What in the world is this picture about?!?!?!?

Is he supposed to be a vacuuming superhero from the future?

Is the photo an analogy of Diego's "future" in housekeeping?

Is he a martian and the vacuum signifies the vacuum of deep space?

Was the photographer drunk and out of props?

Either way this picture is classic.

Thank you Sexy People for uploading this picture!

Happy April Fools' Day!

2009-04-01T14:08:00.004-05:00

The origins of April Fools' Day are murky, but the likeliest explanation is that it began as a way to mock French people who were slow to switch to the Gregorian Calendar which changed New Year's from April 1st to January 1st.

These folks were labeled "fools" and some were sent on "fools' errands."

Of course there are alternate theories, specifically ones that ascribe the informal holiday to the cultural impact of the Hilaria Festival of ancient Rome and the Holi Celebration in India.

The Museum of Hoaxes has a complete collection of all the theories, but the real problem with explaining April Fools' Day is that you never quite know when someone is trying to fool you with their explanation.

My favorite example comes from Professor Joseph Boskin of Boston University. Boskin explained that the holiday stemmed from a moment of political unrest under Constantine, when a group of court jesters said they could run the empire better than he could. He claimed that Constantine was amused so he let a jester named Kugel be king for a day. That day was April 1st.

The press ran this theory in 1983, only to find out it was Boskin's prank on the American public.

The real fun though is pulling a prank yourself.

So, go on and make some prank phone calls, change the time on a clock, heat up a door handle, tape up a computer mouse, tie up a sink sprayer, strategically apply some vaseline to surfaces, glue a quarter to the floor, exchange the salt and the sugar, or just hide and scare the heck out of someone.

Make a fool out of somebody and have a happy April Fools' Day.

Top One Hundred April Fools' Day Hoaxes Of All Time

Tell Me Why?

2009-03-30T02:37:00.002-05:00

You Don't Like Mondays...

Apocalypse Meow

2009-03-27T09:29:00.002-05:00

Watership Down! I repeat, Watership Down! Medic!

Twouble With Twitter

2009-03-27T00:47:00.002-05:00

Twitter, expanding on the dictionary's definition of twit since 2006:

Twit

Noun - An insignificant or bothersome person, a foolishly annoying person.
Verb - To taunt, ridicule, or tease, especially for embarrassing mistakes or faults.

The sad part about Twitter is that it actually is a living metaphor for how desperately everyone wants to be connected, to others, and to feel like they are being heard.

Appealing to a voyeuristic impulse driven generation raised on disconnection and instant gratification Twitter, (unlike blogging) is as much about connection as chewing gum is about nutrition. Yet, you will find hundreds, sometimes thousands, of people following the random, mindless white noise events of another humans life.

Pearls of wisdom such as:

Dim sum is my favorite. – 161 followers

I'm at bar camp la. – 887 followers

I am sooo grateful for getting an extra hour of sleep. – 648 followers

Adding 40 friends on facebook - 4226 followers

What is driving not only Twitter but the whole social network phenomena is the need for acceptance and validation; the bigger the number of “followers” or “friends” you have the more “important” you are. Your life is now a essentially a video game.

Shouldn't people desire quality in real friends, instead of quantity in illusionary friends?

Don't people realize sonic pulses are good food MRI’s but not for human connection?

Twitter does not make human interaction more efficient, nor does it help you get more connected, it feeds you an illusion of connection.

The social network phenomena points to one obvious reality, that humans deeply and desperately want to connect, but platforms like Twitter are the fast food of human connection quick, bad for you, nutritionally empty, and feed on giving the least healthy thing to as many people as possible for one simple purpose, money.

I feel like I am becoming more and more jaded lately.

Well, at least I can still laugh at the situation and this video proves I'm not the only one who thinks Twitter is blogging for retards and the next evolution of stupid.

Video thanks to Big Daddy over at Bon Jour, Pee Wee

Karma Karma Karma Chameleon

2009-03-26T17:09:00.011-05:00

You come and go
You come and go
Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dreams
Or like Ray-Ban sunglasses...

Obama Fatigue

2009-03-25T11:15:00.004-05:00

Obama claims he inherited the deficit...

As Ace so succinctly put it :

"He inherited these deficits like OJ inherited Niccole Brown's head".

He has proposed a budget with a level of spending that sends deficits to record levels!

Obama wants to assume that by 2012, the last year of his first term, revenues will exceed the average of the previous twenty-five years (indeed, the last fifty years!) for every year from then on. He assumes unprecedented revenues to start flowing in, year after year, from 2012 onward. He also assumes unspecified savings in those years way past his first term.

He puts the deficit at 12.3% of GDP in 2009. Throughout the Great Depression, whether under Hoover or FDR, the deficit never exceeded 6% of GDP. Under Reagan, with his inherited recession and his tax cuts, it never exceeded 6% of GDP. Under George W. Bush, with his inherited recession and his tax cuts, it never even got to 4% of GDP.

In fact, in only five years since 1930 has the deficit exceeded 6% of GDP: 1942-46. It has exceeded Obama's 12.3% only from 1942 to 1945.

That was World War II. Then, defense spending was about 40% of GDP. Now it is about 4%.

Obama projects debt held by the public at 59% of GDP in 2009, and about 65% of GDP thereafter, as far as his projections go.

You have to go back to Truman to see debts that high. And Truman was paying off World War II costs. It's been below 50% of GDP since 1957. For the first time since then, it will exceed that level this year, going from 41% to 59% of GDP in a single year.

This is a terrible budget. In Obama's first term, it is even worse than my predictions. Into his second term and beyond, it is still bad, and held together only with rosy assumptions on both the revenue and spending sides. When things can be expected to get really bad, by 2020 and beyond, he makes no projections at all.

Obama also had the great idea to save money with a plans to have our military veterans to use their private insurance to cover combat related injuries! I'm a military veteran! Luckily veterans groups, learning of the possibility last month, quickly mobilized to oppose it and he dropped it.

What kind of President would quickly abandon his moral responsibility to the men and women who have sacrificed so much for our nations freedoms?

The kind who would want an organization with voter fraud investigations in twelve states to partner with Census to help count the number of Americans in the country.

With many criminal indictments and convictions having been leveled in numerous states against ACORN the concern is why the Census should be "partnering" with an organization that has so frequently bribed people to register voters.

What is at stake from an accurate census is huge. The allocation of seats in Congress, and ultimately questions of who controls it, depend on an accurate count. Much of the money Congress spends is allocated based on the census.

ACORN is a "bipartisan" organization in name only. Giving it any type of official role in the process, including making it a so-called "Census Bureau partner," is disturbing.

For a nonpartisan organization such as the Census, ACORN's political connections are also troubling. Last year, the Obama campaign paid ACORN $800,000 to register voters and do other work. ABC News' Jake Tapper caught Obama campaign officials in numerous attempts to hide Mr. Obama's past connections with ACORN. Mr. Obama also gave ACORN money when he served on the board of the Woods Fund in Chicago. For all the work that he has done for ACORN over the years, Investor's Business Daily called Mr. Obama "ACORN's Senator."

In sixty days or so he has made some terrible decisions and they seem to just keep coming.

Only one thousand three hundred and ninety-five more days until he is out. It couldn't come any faster if it was tomorrow for me.

The Doctor Is In

2009-03-24T16:33:00.013-05:00

I heard this conversation on the radio this morning:

Clueless Caller: I’m confused. My girlfriend has sex with me, but she refuses to ever kiss me on the mouth.

Relationship Doctor: There are two possibilities. It could be possible she is turned off by your breath or there may be psychological reasons why your girlfriend avoids kissing. Blah, blah, blah.

The Doctor's bottom line was if your girlfriend hardly kisses you, you need to ask her and yourself what the problem is. It might be fixable, but it may also be a sign that she lacks real feelings for you.

I think the Doctor missed the obvious. She ignored a third, but far more likely, explanation for this woman's behavior.

So it looks like it's up to me to help this guy out...

Dear Clueless,

I have some questions about your "girlfriend:"

Does she usually greet you by asking "Are you a cop"?

Instead of going out to dinner and a movie, does she just prefer the cash?

Do most of your "dates" occur in parked cars or motels?

Is her petname for you "John"?

After the "date", do you drop her off on any corner?

When you suggest that she come home to meet your mother, does she say "Okay, but that'll be an extra fifty bucks"?

Is her favorite movie "Pretty Woman"?

If you've answered "yes" to one or more of the above, I suspect that she may not be your girlfriend after all. You may want to reconsider this relationship and look into some health screening.

Best Wishes,
Q. McLovin' M.D.

I can't believe no one has ever offered me my own advice column.

Bear Mountain Sports Commercial

2009-03-24T09:52:00.001-05:00

We The People Stimulus Package

2009-03-23T00:47:00.004-05:00

Democracy is not a spectator sport...

In 1776 one of our founding fathers Thomas Paine, anonymously published a pamphlet entitled “Common Sense” which challenged the authority of the British government and the royal monarchy. The plain language that Paine used resonated with the common man and was the first publication to openly push for independence.

Maintaining “the cause of America is in a great measure the cause of all mankind,” Paine passionately argued for independence from Great Britain, and painted the picture of a prosperous future, if freed from the oppressive and economically draining English government.

Now two hundred and thirty three years later, America once again finds itself being taxed without representation, and being drained economically by an oppressive government.

This time, it’s own government run amuck.

What would Thomas Paine say about America’s plight today?

Shooting Star Inc.

2009-03-20T08:51:00.013-05:00

I got such a positive response about my newly evolved end of life decisions to have my body flash frozen into a specific pose and shot into space that I believe this idea can be developed into a business venture.

Think about it:

You can literally become the Silver Surfer, or Arthur Dent from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a Buddhist could be frozen into a meditation position, Chuck Norris could be posed, set into a spin and perpetually roundhouse kick for the rest of time.

You could be covered in mirrors transforming you into a star!

Speaking of stars:

Star Wars fans - You can recreate an actual scene from the movie as Darth Vader in his battle damaged TIE Fighter hurtling through space!

The possibilities are endless.

Remains could be set into orbit around Earth, into deep space or shot directly at a particular planet.

You remember how Uncle Buster was always so fond of Jupiter, right?

Even if the orbit is imperfect, or if it is effected by some other object the results are still pretty memorable. Either the deceased will be sent back to reenter the atmosphere harmlessly vaporizing becoming a blazing shooting star as a final tribute or they could be knocked out of orbit and fly off into deep space to boldly go where no man has gone before.

I am now taking up a collection for the start up capitol to get this business off the ground (so to speak).

The first million dollars gets you a complementary space burial and memorial video.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2009-03-17T10:04:00.012-05:00

It's time once again to dust off your shamrocks and test your Irish luck, cause we're all green on St. Patrick's Day!

Well, in all fairness I am exactly zero percent Irish.

However, my beautiful girlfriend is half Irish, Ireland is an island as is my country of origin, I was brought up Roman Catholic, one of my best friends in the Army was Irish and I went along with him to visit his relatives in County Cork. I also have an affinity for delicious alcoholic beverages and the color green.

Hopefully that's enough to earn me the right to celebrate.

Saint Patrick, the Roman Catholic patron saint of the inebriated.

Today is the day where we mourn a great man, a humble and courageous man by drinking a whole bunch of green alcoholic beverages and by gathering with friends and family to have fun.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

End Of Life Decisions

2009-03-16T10:49:00.009-05:00

This should not be considered a final will and testament, as, obviously, it mentions none of my assets, which will be dealt with in other documents. However, what follows is, in fact, a true statement of my final wishes.

I have often told people that upon my death, at the conclusion of the after party, I want my dead body to be shot out of a cannon and wherever it lands that is where they should bury me.

I don't think it is too much to ask for and it seems like a good way to go out with a bang, so to speak.

I am now considering a different method to dispose of my earthly remains.

Logistical issues aside, upon my death the following should be performed:

I want my body to be placed into a Superman costume and flash frozen into this pose:

The frozen remains should then be launched into outer space.

None of this geosynchronous orbit crap either. I want to be on an extra-solar trajectory.

Why? Because an alien armada on it's way to Earth could come across me and decide that maybe they better make a U-turn and head back to Quasar F-73 and re-think their invasion plans.

So it is written. So let it be done.

Obama's Poll Numbers Are Falling

2009-03-16T09:54:00.008-05:00

It is simply wrong for commentators to continue to focus on President Barack Obama's high levels of popularity, and to conclude that these are indicative of high levels of public confidence in the work of his administration.

Indeed, a detailed look at recent survey data shows that the opposite is most likely true. The American people are coming to express increasingly significant doubts about his initiatives, and most likely support a different agenda and different policies from those that the Obama administration has advanced.

Polling data show that Obama's approval rating is dropping and is below where George W. Bush was in an analogous period in 2001. Rasmussen Reports data shows that Mr. Obama's net presidential approval rating. Which is calculated by subtracting the number who strongly disapprove from the number who strongly approve, is just six, his lowest rating to date.

Overall, Rasmussen Reports shows a 56%-43% approval, with a third strongly disapproving of the president's performance. This is a substantial degree of polarization so early in the administration. Obama has lost virtually all of his Republican support and a good part of his Independent support, and the trend is decidedly negative.

The reason for this decline most likely has to do with doubts about the administration's policies and their impact on peoples' lives.

Are people finally taking notice?

The 2010 budget document is on the OMB website.

While the Red Shed (formerly the Whitehouse) talks about deficit reduction as if there were some sort of 'savings' involved, you have to understand that deficits are being reduced by increasing taxes and not by reducing spending you will not be impressed either.

According to the budget document:

Gross Federal Deficit 2008 = $9.986 trillion (actual); increasing in 2009 to $12.704 trillion (est.); by 2013 $16.198 trillion (est).

In one budget year Obama will increases our national debt by 27%, and over four years by 62%, although I expect the real numbers will far exceed the estimated numbers, and Congress may throw more tax increases at the taxpayers as a result. I suppose I can understand China's 'concern' over holding so much US debt.

Paraphrasing the old saw that "the whippings will continue until morale improves" I do not expect that Harry Pelosi, Nancy Reid & DemSoc will be able to resist even more '$timulu$' for the government, just not for the economy.

Our grandkids are going to have to pay the bill when it comes due.

I wonder if they'll have to use Chinese Yuan to do it?

Happy Friday The 13th!

2009-03-13T09:42:00.005-05:00

It's Friday the 13th and as a public service I have compiled a list of suggestions that I feel will keep you safe from harm...

Survival Tip #1: If you see a black cat, shoot it.
Better to be safe than sorry.

Survival Tip #2: Use up all your bad luck early.
You can only have so much bad luck in a single day, so just start trying to use your whole quota of it by lunch. Tempt fate through such activities as cleaning your toaster with a fork, picking a fight with a gorilla or cleaning your ears with a nail gun.

Survival Tip #3: Don't talk about Fight Club.
Even if you are a beautiful and unique snowflake, just don't.

Survival Tip #4: Don't let the Jehovah's Witnesses in.
Sure, three hundred and sixty four days out of the year they seem like nice folks who just want to share their crackpot religious dogma and a cup of Kool-Aid with you...but each year on Friday the 13th, they fatten their ranks by kidnapping people and forcing them to watch Veggie Tales until they convert.

Survival Tip #5: Refuse to recognize that it's Friday the 13th.
In many skyscrapers, superstitious builders make the floors jump from twelve to fourteen to avoid the unlucky thirteenth floor. As soon as you wake up today, say, "Wow, what a lovely day March 14th is!

Survival Tip #6: Leave the Earth by close of business April 13, 2029.
Be gone before the Near-Earth asteroid 99942 Apophis smashes into our planet and destroys the world as we know it.

Now you've got to ask yourself one question:

"Am I feeling superstitious?"

You Call That Art?

2009-03-12T10:35:00.010-05:00

Do you remember that scene from Fight Club where The Space Monkeys bring in a very dead Robert Paulson and explain how he was shot while on a Project Mayhem assignment to destroy a piece of corporate art and a trendy coffee bar at the same time?

Do you also remember what that piece of corporate art was?

It was a giant sphere which they rolled into a Starbucks.

Even though it was a moving scene which ended with Meat Loaf dying of a massive gaping head wound, my thoughts weren't on the tragic loss of life or on how The Space Monkeys had all been transformed into unfeeling cogs, my thoughts returned to that ugly golden sphere and I remember thinking, “That is not art”.

Fast forward to today as I walked into an office building to attend a meeting and noticed the massive piece of "artwork" that hangs in their atrium from the third to the first floor. I stopped and stared at it, trying to figure out what the heck it was. It took me a few minutes, staring at it’s shiny silver surface until I realized that it looked like the bones of a giant fish.

Well, nothing says “Welcome to Company Inc™, where we do business” like a giant metal abstract trout skeleton.

That got me thinking about a lot of the different corporate art I have seen and I came to the conclusion that referring to any of it as art is damn near an impossibility for me.

I am all for abstract shapes and concepts, but when it looks like a giant piece of sheet metal that has been warped it into a squiggly cylinder which has then been plopped down outside an office building it is not art.

It may be like comparing apples to oranges, but I just can’t call that art as I would a painting by Diego Velazquez or Salvador Dali.

Inconceivable...

2009-03-11T10:47:00.009-05:00

A cliff is a convenient plot device...

I have seen a lot of real cliffs, but that is an entirely different story about how bad ass I am. One for another time.

Really though...how many actual cliffs do you think the average person has ever even seen?

In fact, you have probably never seen a real cliff in your life.

Okay, maybe one, two tops.

Now compare that with how many cliffs are seen in movies, television programs, whatever.

The average fictional character encounters a whopping 1.58 cliffs every hour. In fact, 0.00027% of the world inhabited by fictitious people is occupied by cliffs. Not by my measurement, by someone else's; someone who has more credibility than me (note: I made this number up, also the one before it).

The point is this: The average person is never flung off a cliff, or forced to catch someone who has been flung off a cliff, or has assisted the person they intend to duel to reach the top of a cliff, or decided to drive their car over a cliff to avoid capture, or fooled their enemy into thinking they have fallen off a cliff only to slowly climb back up after said enemy has left the area, or skidded slowly towards a cliff while fighting for some life-altering treasure, or, for that matter, has had the life-altering treasure fall off a cliff and then has had to go get it, perhaps by intentionally diving of the cliff.

Fictional characters, however, do this all the time.

Suspension of disbelief can only go so far when it comes to cliffs.

Let's hold fiction to some standard here folks.

New Pet

2009-03-11T08:54:00.004-05:00

Nick Drummond shot a great series of photos featuring a Star Wars AT-AT as a new family pet named “ATilla”.

In addition to making great pets I hear they’re great for ridding your home of rebel scum.

Happy Meal

2009-03-10T13:49:00.013-05:00

Except for the fact that kids seem to love it, it's hard to find a happy story about the McDonald's Happy Meal. Happy Meals seem to have a bad rap for luring kids into eating unhealthy foods with cheap toys.

On the other hand though, kids don't drive themselves to McDonald's, parents do, and if the kids didn't like the food, it's unlikely a little plastic toy would turn the tide in their demands.

I myself think, even though there is hardly anything to them and they've probably irreparably damaged my arteries, McDonald's hamburgers are delicious.

Well, Luke Underwood an eleven year old from Notts, England has a very happy story. He turned his collection of Happy Meal toys into a tidy sum of cash when he sold it for over eleven thousand dollars.

It is estimated that ten thousand Happy Meals would have to have been eaten in order to amass such a collection, but before you head out to the drive-through, you should know that Luke did not eat those meals himself. At the age of seven, he convinced his father to purchase most of the Happy Meals collection (dating from 1990 to 1999) for about three hundred and fifty dollars which he added to until it was sold at auction. The family decided it was time to sell the items after boxes of the collection began taking over their home.

Time to start checking under car seats and the backs of your kids closet or bed for those discarded Happy Meal toys. You just may find some treasure or a psychotic red and white striped clown...

Play That Funky Music

2009-03-10T10:35:00.000-05:00

]

Great mashup of various instructional and other music videos to creat one gigantic funk song.

Welcome To The Future...

2009-03-09T07:30:00.000-05:00

Obama And The Economy

2009-03-06T10:19:00.007-06:00

(The picture doesn't have anything to do with the story, but it was too weird not to post)

It's hard not to see the continued sell-off on Wall Street and the growing fear on Main Street as a product, at least in part, of the realization that our new president's policies are designed to radically re-engineer the market-based U.S. economy, not just mitigate the recession and financial crisis.

The illusion that Barack Obama will lead from the economic center has quickly come to an end. Instead of combining the best policies of past Democratic presidents - John Kennedy on taxes, Bill Clinton on welfare reform and a balanced budget, for instance - President Obama is returning to Jimmy Carter's higher taxes and Mr. Clinton's draconian defense drawdown. Mr. Obama's $3.6 trillion budget blueprint, by his own admission, redefines the role of government in our economy and society. The budget more than doubles the national debt held by the public, adding more to the debt than all previous presidents - from George Washington to George W. Bush...

(Read the entire article)

Saturday Morning Cartoons: Watchmen

2009-03-05T16:46:00.004-06:00

Set in an alternate universe where in nineteen eighty-five the tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union are high and the "Doomsday Clock" is set at five minutes to midnight, former superhero turned vigilante Rorschach discovers that one of his former colleagues, The Comedian, has been murdered.

As he investigates the murder he uncovers a plot that is intent on killing and/or discrediting all past and present superheros. As he reconnects with members of his former crime-fighting unit, including Nite Owl II, Silk Spectre II, Ozymandias and Dr. Manhattan, they uncover a disturbing conspiracy that not only links their shared past but has catastrophic consequences for the future.

Read the graphic novel for the first time today. I enjoyed the story. It was deep and interesting, but I never got to a point where I really cared very much about the characters...except for Rorschach.

Has anyone seen the movie yet?

I'll Make You Eat Those Words...

2009-03-03T10:01:00.008-06:00

Looking for an innovative way to leave someone a message?

Tired of writing the message down on a piece of paper or post it?

Next time, put it on toast.

This toaster by Sasha Tseng incorporates a little message board where you can write and read quick notes.The message also gets “toasted” onto the toast itself.

Since words are often experienced as tastes by a person with synesthesia...I wonder how this would affect them?

I'd like to have one of these and see how a drawing would turn out on the toast.

I'm On A Boat!

2009-03-01T12:27:00.004-06:00

Just posting some frivolous stuff that makes me smile or laugh at the moment. I hope it also brings a moment of happiness to whomever comes by the blog too.

Happy Clouds

2009-02-28T02:46:00.000-06:00

The clouds over London are often described as dark, threatening and stormy, but rarely are they described as “happy”.

The Happy Cloud installation filled the air outside the Tate Modern Gallery in London with smiley faces made from helium, soap and vegetable dye.

The artist, Stuart Semple, interviewed by Telegraph TV in the video below, said he wanted to create something to cheer people up.

As well as alleviating the doom and gloom of recessions and downturns, the installation aims to show that creative industries have an important role in the economy and should not be neglected during the recession.

Some things in life are bad.
They can really make you mad.
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle.
Don't grumble, give a whistle.
And this'll help things turn out for the best...

Always look on the bright side of life...

Catch The Frak Up!

2009-02-27T17:18:00.004-06:00

There are only four more episodes of Battlestar Galactica, so catch the frak up with these two videos...

Too Many Dicks on the Dance Floor

2009-02-16T15:00:00.000-06:00

Not enough ladies, too many mans...

Happy Valentine's Day!

2009-02-14T11:21:00.002-06:00

Happy New Year!

2008-12-31T13:50:00.007-06:00

The year is almost over, it will soon be 2009.

2009...

That sounds so futuristic. We may not have flying cars or personal robots like books and movies promised us, but I'm still super psyched. This year, just like past years, I want to resolve do some things differently. Whether I actually will or not is irrelevant. I figure as long as I have positive thoughts I may accomplish some by random event.

Let's ring in the new year with a video from David Hasselhoff!

Thanks for reading, and a Happy New Year to all of you!

What Christmas Means To Me...

2008-12-25T18:39:00.003-06:00

Christmas to me means family, love, caring and giving.

As a child, Christmas was always my favorite day of the year. It meant being rewarded with gifts for good behavior, thanks Santa!

As a young man in the military, Christmas was a time of celebrating with other service members. A time of attempting to create a sense of normalcy in a strange place far from home and if I really wanted that RPG launcher, I'd better start calling mom more often...

As I've grown older, Christmas is still my favorite day of the year.

It's a time to enjoy being with the ones I love, to share memories and make new ones, giving instead of receiving, doing what I can for my community and seeing my youth reflected in the eyes of our boy.

As a Christian, Christmas has always meant celebrating the birth of one very special child in particular. The Christ child. A time for midnight mass, giving thanks to God for all that has been done for us and celebrating the true religion of peace.

I hope anyone reading this has a safe and happy holiday!

From all of us to all of you - Merry Christmas!

Special Christmas Wish...

2008-12-23T11:29:00.010-06:00

Tell Us About Your Balls Pete...

2008-12-23T08:02:00.000-06:00

Order your Holiday Schweddy Ball Sack Today!

Unusual Christmas Trees

2008-12-23T06:10:00.001-06:00

The Festivus Pole

Okay, technically not a Christmas tree, but since as depicted on the December 18, 1997 Seinfeld episode "The Strike" today is actually Festivus I couldn't not include it on this list.

Happy Festivus - The Holiday for the Rest of Us!

During Festivus, the Festivus Pole is displayed completely unadorned. The aluminum pole was chosen apparently in opposition to the commercialization of highly decorated Christmas trees, because it is very low-maintenance, and also because the holiday's patron saint, Frank Costanza, finds tinsel "distracting".

The Upside Down Christmas Tree

This upside-down seven foot pre-lit Christmas tree evokes a 12th century Central European tradition of hanging a tree from the ceiling at Christmas, this unique fir is inverted to ensure a smaller footprint for less-spacious areas, and allowing more room for the accumulation of presents underneath.

The Who-ville Christmas Tree

Clasp hands and sing Fah who for-aze! Dah who dor-aze! Welcome Christmas around in true Dr. Seuss style with this little tree, based on the classic illustration from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas".

Charlie Brown’s Pathetic Christmas Tree

Good Grief! Learn the true meaning of Christmas with Charlie Brown's classically pathetic Christmas tree. Linus Van Pelt says: "It's not a bad little tree. All it needs is a little love."

The Mountain Dew Christmas Tree

Three months of soda drinking (approximately four hundred cans of Mountain Dew) and four days of building to get this really creative Christmas Tree ready for the holidays.

The Beer Bottle Christmas Tree

Now this is a project I can get whole heartily support. Forget drinking all that soda-pop, if you want an alternative to your boring Christmas tree and are comfortable displaying your healthy beer drinking habit...then all you need it a taste for Grolsch and a little free time and you too can have a beer bottle tree.

Christmas Tree-zilla!

This is the mother of all Christmas trees. A gigantic seven story "tree" made from three hundred and fifty regular-sized Christmas trees! Approximately seventy staffers of the Yilong Media company of China constructed this pyramid of Christmas trees.

Collection Of Kris Kriminal Mug Shots

2008-12-22T08:15:00.000-06:00

The Smoking Gun has a great roundup of mug shots featuring some arrestees who bear a striking resemblance to Santa Claus.

It's The Thought That Counts...

2008-12-22T07:11:00.003-06:00

It's that time of year again...Christmas is almost upon us and with it, all the pressures that come with it to get the perfect gift for everyone on your list. The truth is though that your friends and loved ones may not love the gifts you've chosen.

Sometimes they'll open the gift, it’s not exactly what they expected or even something they wanted and after they feign excitement for the obligatory amount of time, what do they do with it?

Well, if they're like most Americans, they regift or pass the less than stellar present on to someone else who might enjoy it more.

Wikipedia defines regifting as the act of taking a gift that has been received and giving it to somebody else in the guise of a new gift.

The term was coined on an episode of Seinfeld called "The Label Maker" in which Elaine calls someone a "regifter" after they give Jerry a label-maker that was originally given to them by her.

If you have ever watched "A Christmas Story" you know that Ralphie received one of the worst gifts a young boy could ever get...pink bunny rabbit pajamas. I wonder if they regifted it?

Which brings me to the question...Is it okay to regift?

Heres some tips in case you're stuck with a recyclable gift this year:

No Guilt Necessary

According the President of Ethics at Work, "There is no reason to feel guilty for regifting. The purpose of giving a gift is to give pleasure, to bring joy to someone's life. If for example you already own a copy of the 'Godfather' collection and you know that someone else would like to have it, what's the point in keeping it? It would be wasteful."

Once a gift is given, it's the recipient's to do with as they wish, whether it be returning it or regifting it. Another etiquette expert we spoke to said people are not required to keep something they don't need or like. Good etiquette doesn't require you to keep anything, just that you are grateful when you receive it.

Obligation To Regift

Not only is it okay to regift, some experts say there are times you are morally obligated to regift.

For example, if someone gives you an article of clothing or food that you don't want or don't need but that someone else could benefit from such as a homeless person or a shelter, it's not only a good thing to give it to the shelter, you ought to give it to the shelter. As a bonus, if you do give it to a charity, you may be eligible for a tax deduction.

Rules Of Regifting

If you plan on regifting, do it with a gift you recently received, in other words, the sooner the better. Otherwise you may forget who gave it to you in the first place and could end up giving the gift back to the original giver.

Also, make sure you give the gift to someone who won't possibly run into the first person. It would be terribly embarrassing if your mother-in-law saw the one of a kind, handmade sweater she gave you on another relative.

The gift should be in its original condition and do your best to remove the evidence by taking off all the original gift tags!

Consider The Recipient

Naturally, if you're regifting, be casual. You don't want to give the recipient the impression you bought the item, spent a lot of time looking for it, picking it out and ordering it.

If the guilt is too much, you may want to be honest with the person you are giving the gift to. You can say "I received this sweater, but am allergic to the fabric and I thought you might like it."

When you're giving the gift out of season for example, not during the holidays or not around one's birthday it is probably fair to tell the person you are regifting so you don't unfairly obligate them to give you a gift in return.

Accepting The Regift

A tip for the giftee: if you suspect you are being given a re-gift, never make mention of it.

If you receive something you're not thrilled with, consider donating it or passing it on to someone you really think would appreciate it or try selling it on eBay.

Have a Merry Christmas and remember it's the thought that counts.

Patience Is A Virtue...

2008-12-20T07:37:00.005-06:00

Is a saying that apparently Season and Gabriel are not familiar with!

Before we could leave on our road trip I finally broke down to their pestering and let them each open an early Christmas present from under the tree.

They both knew they were each getting their own Nintendo DS game systems and they claimed they couldn't wait a moment longer.

They were so anxious to play with them that I finally caved in and in the spirit of Christmas let them open those two presents early.

At least they will both be entertained on the long drive to Texas.

Merry Early Christmas Gabriel and Season!

Texas Sized Merry Christmas

2008-12-19T23:48:00.001-06:00

Tomorrow we are going to celebrate an early Christmas with some family and friends down in Texas!

Out of the ten states that I have hung my hat in Texas is definitely one of my favorites and the one that feels most like home.

I can't wait to get there and see everyone.

Season Starts Her MS Treatment

2008-12-19T23:40:00.002-06:00

Last night a nurse came out to the house to educate us on Season's multiple sclerosis medication and trained us on the use of her nifty autoinjector.

The autoinjector reminds me of the nerve agent antidote injectors of atropine we were issued in the military.

She is going to be taking Rebif which is used to treat relapsing forms of MS. In order to decrease the frequency of relapses and delay the occurrence of some of the physical disability that is common in people with MS.

The first few shots will be at a low dosage which increase as she continues taking the medication.

We were both very excitied for Season to finally begin treatment, but also a little worried if she would have any negative side effects.

The most common side effects with Rebif are injection site reactions, flu-like symptoms, depression, and abdominal pain.

I got to play doctor and give her the first injection and I am happy to report that so far she didn't have any negative reactions. I am praying and hoping that this stuff works wonders on her MS.

Walken In A Winter Wonderland

2008-12-19T02:56:00.002-06:00

"Walken in a Winter Wonderland," with John Tesh on piano...

The Grinch Who Stole From Charities

2008-12-18T09:54:00.012-06:00

Some would say that there is never a good time to defraud a charity out of so much money that it's forced to close its doors, but doing it during the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, that's just really messed up.

Many of the investors who handed millions over to Bernie Madoff were charities and foundations who now find their assets severely depleted, some to the point that they are having to shut down.

Among the charities that Bernie managed to shut down is the JEHT Foundation, which promoted "Justice, Equality, Human Dignity, and Tolerance." Other charities that were hit hard were The Children Of Chernobyl and The Elie Wiesel Foundation for Humanity.

You're a mean one, Mr. Madoff.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel.
Mr. Madoff.
You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel.

Come on Bernie! You don't steal money from charities you a-hole!

Microwavable Christmas Cheer

2008-12-18T06:34:00.003-06:00

Thanks to Bon Jour, Pee Wee

Terribly Tacky Christmas Gifts Ideas

2008-12-17T14:00:00.021-06:00

Squirrel Feet Earrings

Have anyone on your Christmas list that either loves or hates squirrels? These beauties are made from one hundred percent real squirrel feet recycled from a taxidermist. You can choose between squirrel earrings or a necklace. They are the perfect accessories to complement that raccoon skin cap you got them for their birthday.

Fetus Cookie Cutter

Okay, who doesn't love eating fetuses? Nobody? What about fetus shaped cookies? You can serve delicious fetus shaped cookies at the next baby shower, or pro-choice rally, or maybe even the stem cell research cotillion? Still no? Well, if you happen to know someone who is weirdo enough to want to pretend to eat fetuses this fetus shaped cookie cutter will make a great stocking stuffer.

Fundies (The Underwear Built For Two)

Just when you thought underwear couldn't get any more fun...or just plain weird and uncomfortable. For the people who won't accept that there is such a thing as too much intimacy, there is Fundies. A great gift for that irritating couple who are constantly engaging in way too many public displays of affection and are are pretty much joined at the hip anyway. Here is a way of subtly trying to make them realize how clingy they've been, and hopefully, they won't be so damn annoying anymore. It could just be the gift that keeps on giving.

Decapitated Teddy Bear Lamp

This thing looks like a reject from Rudolph and the Island Of The Misfit Toys. Check out the look of confusion as that brat Timmy starts crying his head off and watch his parents scramble to explain why teddy has a light bulb instead of a head and an electrical cord shoved up his butt after he opens this wonderful present. The decapitated teddy bear lamp is both cuddly, yet functional and is the perfect gift to freak out that little kid you despise.

Dissected Knitted Frog

If you love biology, but don't want to handle actual dead animals, you'll love this hand crafted dissected knitted frog. All the organs are in place for your dissecting pleasure. You can also unpin him from the background and cuddle your dead amphibian friend, which is more than I can recommend doing with the decapitated teddy bear lamp...unless you are into electrical shocks.

The Gift Of Nothing

Ever been so mad at someone that not giving them a gift seems to be an understatement? The problem is they might just think you forgot or couldn't afford to get them something. Nothing says you intentionally left them out like the gift of nothing. Show them exactly how much they mean to you, give them the gift of nothing.

The P-Mate

Ah, Freud would be proud. That's right, women everywhere can now experience the joy that is standing up while urinating. There is no longer a need for women to lose their dignity squatting or risk unhygienic and unpleasant public restrooms anymore. While The P-Mate might be useful for women who go camping a lot or run marathons, nothing says “I'm a total freak” than giving the woman in your life a fake penis to pee with.

The Carol Of The Christmas Pickle

2008-12-16T08:00:00.000-06:00

Do you have a Christmas Pickle?

The Christmas Pickle Ornament Poem

To start a tradition that surely will last.
Here’s a short story about the pickle of glass.
The night before Christmas it’s hung on the tree.
While everyone’s sleeping it’s done secretly.
On Christmas morning when you arise.
The first one to find it will get a surprise.

Year Without A Santa Claus?

2008-12-15T08:37:00.002-06:00

(Photo obtained from Santa Claus' MySpace account)

The American Civil Liberties Union announced today that it was bringing a lawsuit against Santa Claus for violations of the civil rights of children.

An ACLU spokesman stated that: "Mr. Claus has been violating children's right to privacy and has been compiling information about children’s behavior in a vast database, many times without the parent’s knowledge or consent."

"This information is then used by Mr. Claus’ organization to determine which children are considered “naughty” or “nice” according to his own intrinsic belief system. It is obvious Mr. Claus has violated the children's rights, as we have alleged in our suit, as proof we have obtained memos and other company information."

Among the documents presented to the courts today was a copy of a mass e-mail threat sent out to children worldwide which reads:

You better watch out.
You better not cry.
You better not pout.
I'm telling you why.
Santa Claus is coming to town.

In addition the ACLU believes those threats to be Mr. Claus’ way of engaging in mind control experiments designed to curtail children’s free will.

The ACLU claims the document, which was obtained from a worker in the distribution department of Mr. Claus' organization,"Clearly shows a concerted attempt to restrict the rights of children to free expression and free thought. In addition, there are concerns about the security of the information. What would be the result if the information in his database was made available to other agencies around the world?"

Lawyers at the Justice Department also confirmed today that they were investigating the possibility that Mr. Claus was at the core of a vast conspiracy against children.

An anonymous source from inside Justice stated: "We believe a large number of parent, ministers and teachers are involved in this business of attempting to get children to behave and we expect several of them will testify for the State in return for a lighter sentence.

"In addition, the same sources indicated a parallel investigation by the IRS and the FBI on possible charges of smuggling on the part of Mr. Claus: "Our records do not show Mr. Claus, or any one else in his organization paying any import duties or taxes on any items he has delivered. Since Mr. Claus has representatives in all of the States of the Union we believe he should have to pay state and local taxes on all of the goods he delivers also."

Lawyers for Mr. Claus stated, "The charges of the ACLU are absurd. Mr. Claus is a well known and highly respected figure. His supporters are from around the world and his message of love and respect can, in no way, be taken as a form of "mind control" or a violation of the civil rights of children."

The lawsuit is complicated by the fact that Mr. Claus is not a resident of the United States or any country which the United States currently has an extradition treaty.

It is unknown where Mr. Claus is at the moment, but it is believed he is hiding out at his North Pole estate.

In a brief statement, read by his lawyer, Mr. Claus said, "I find the charges of the ACLU absurd and I am confident they will be rejected by the courts. As for any criminal charges, I believe the Justice Department will discover they have no basis."

Experts are uncertain what effect the suit or possible pending charges might have on Mr. Claus' Christmas travels this year.

Oklahoma State Capitol Christmas Ceremony

2008-12-10T09:34:00.012-06:00

Gabriel's third grade S.E.A.R.C.H. class was invited to attend the Oklahoma State Capitol Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony.

The kids decorated one of the small trees that will be on display inside the building, made cards for deployed soldiers, saw some neat holiday performances from local artists and got to meet and get their picture taken with Governor Brad Henry, his wife and Santa Claus before going outside to attend the official lighting of the large Christmas tree out in front of the capitol.

The children had a really great time and at the end of the evening we were lucky enough to even get some snow flurries.

Gotta Do The Cooking By The Book

2008-12-08T11:49:00.003-06:00

Stephanie from Lazy Town and Lil' Jon & the East Side Boyz

Cooking By The Book...Yeeeeaaaah!

Remembering Pearl Harbor

2008-12-07T09:30:00.003-06:00

December 7th, 1941 – "a date which will live in infamy" - sixty-seven years ago today, pilots from a Japanese carrier force bombed Pearl Harbor.

They killed two thousand, four hundred and three Americans, most of them service personnel, while destroying much of the American naval fleet and air planes stationed in Hawaii.

Our citizens reacted to the attack with firm determination to defeat tyranny and secure our Nation. This enterprise required the commitment and effort of our entire country. At the height of the conflict, the United States had ships on every ocean and troops on five continents. In all, more than sixteen million Americans wore the uniform of our Nation. They came from all walks of life. They served honorably and fought fiercely. At home, millions more contributed to the war effort, laboring for victory in our factories, on farms, and across America.

Today, we honor those who fought and died at Pearl Harbor, and we pay special tribute to the veterans of World War II. These heroes hold a cherished place in our history. Through their courage, sacrifice, and selfless dedication, they saved our country and preserved freedom. As we fight the war on terror, their patriotism continues to inspire a new generation of Americans who have been called to defend the blessings of liberty.

It's Beginning To Look A lot Like Christmas

2008-12-06T18:27:00.008-06:00

The Christmas tree is up, decorated and since we got so much of the Christmas shopping out of the way early this year it already has a lot of presents underneath! The anticipation has begun! I am so excited!

View On Wrapping Christmas Gifts...

2008-12-05T10:45:00.002-06:00

This is the time of year when we think back to the very first Christmas, when the Three Wise Men; Caspar, Balthasar and that other guy; went to see the baby Jesus and according to the Bible, "presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh."

These are simple words, but if we analyze them carefully, we discover an important, yet often overlooked, theological fact...

There is no mention of wrapping paper!

If there had been wrapping paper Matthew would have also written:

"And lo, the gifts were inside six hundred square cubits of papyrus and the papyrus was festooned with festive pictures of angels blowing trumpets.

But these words do not appear in the Bible, which is undeniable evidence that the very first Christmas gifts were NOT wrapped.

This is because the people giving those gifts had two important characteristics:

1. They were wise.
2. They were men.

Men are not big gift wrappers. We do not understand the point of putting paper around a gift just so somebody else can tear it off.

Perhaps it's because they don't make wrapping paper that can hold a man's interest long enough for him to complete this tedious task.

That is why today I am presenting: Wrapping Paper For Men:

Inspirational Speeches Montage

2008-12-03T08:00:00.006-06:00

I am so fired up now! Nobody and nothing is gonna keep me down!

When It Rains, It Pours...

2008-12-02T23:07:00.001-06:00

I lost my job today!

I didn't lose it...I know where it is, I just don't work there anymore.

I had an inkling that there was something going on, but I still didn't believe it would actually happen to me.

With finding out Season has multiple sclerosis and Christmas right around the corner this is really bad news. I am worried about finding a new job with as good a salary as I had, but on the bright side I was very bored with my work and am looking forward to a change.

Well, time to dust off that interview suit and update the old resume.

Trouble Is A Friend

2008-12-01T22:57:00.000-06:00

Giving Thanks

2008-11-30T23:00:00.001-06:00

Thanksgiving has two qualities for me, a combination of contemplation and Americana that makes it one of my favorite days of the year.

The act of giving thanks makes us count our blessings and truly and actively consider them, and not necessarily in a religious context, although for me that’s a major component of it.

This Thanksgiving turned out very different than expected, but I am still very thankful.

We were all set to have the family come celebrate Thanksgiving together at our house, but on Monday I ended up having to take Season to the hospital's emergency room as she was having some neurological issues that demanded attention.

Luckily we were assigned a very competent and compassionate doctor. Unfortunately the doctor felt that Season was exhibiting symptoms of multiple sclerosis so she was going to have to be admitted to the hospital to undergo tests and begin treatment as soon as possible.

Since that moment we have been very concerned about what the future holds in store for us, but I have faith in Season's strength and tenacity to fight this disease and that we can get through what ever happens next together.

Season ended up having to stay in the hospital until Friday afternoon. That meant that we couldn't have Thanksgiving at home as we had originally planned so instead we all gathered in Season's room and had Thanksgiving dinner courtesy of the hospital cafeteria.

Not exactly the feast I had looked forward to, but the important thing was that we were all together and I felt very fortunate to be able to spend that day with the people I love most.

Season is at back home now and the neurological problems seem to have gone away. She still feels a little dizzy now and then, but hopefully once the doctor can pinpoint which subtype of MS she has he can begin to treat it in earnest and that will clear up too.

I was going to go through a list of things that I am thankful for, but I think I'll just mention...

I am very thankful that Season was able to get such great medical care and that the whole family was able to come together to give her support and show her how much she is loved.

I feel so blessed and thankful to have such a wonderful woman as my partner. She fills my every waking moment with joy and happiness. She is my heart. She is my calming spirit. I love her so much.

I don't know how I got so lucky, but I am most thankful that Season has graced my life with her presence.

I hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving and hope that you at least took a moment to count your blessings. You never know when everything you took for granted can change.

Terrorist Attack In India

2008-11-26T16:07:00.009-06:00

Terrorists strike in Mumbai, hold hostages...

Teams of gunmen stormed luxury hotels, a popular restaurant, hospitals and a crowded train station in coordinated attacks across India's financial capital, killing at least eighty-two, wounding two hundred and fifty people and taking some Westerners hostage. A group of suspected Muslim militants claimed responsibility.

A series of explosions had rocked the Taj Mahal Hotel. Screams were heard and black smoke billowed from the century-old edifice on Mumbai's waterfront. Firefighters sprayed water at the blaze and plucked people from balconies with extension ladders. After dawn, the fire was still burning.

My sympathies and condolences to the families of the victims.

Mumbai has frequently been targeted in terrorist attacks blamed on Islamic extremists, including a series of bombings in July 2006 that killed one hundred eighty-seven people.

Here at home Federal authorities have received a "plausible but unsubstantiated" report that al Qaeda may have discussed targeting transit systems in or around New York.

Hopefully these terrorist's and their violence will not dominate this holiday weekend...be careful out there.

Addams Family Values Thanksgiving Play

2008-11-26T10:09:00.004-06:00

Pocahontas and members of the Chippewa tribe rewrite history...

Coca-Cola Christmas Grenades

2008-11-25T20:07:00.018-06:00

Just in time for Christmas Coca-Cola has rolled out their new holiday bottles that I believe are meant to look like Christmas tree ornaments, but to me resemble something less benign.

After you've drank the soda-pop you can easily add water and some dry ice to convert them into little festive holiday hand grenades!

If they happen to come in the Diet Coke variety adding some Mentos could also be fun.

I can see getting suited up as Santa with a bandoleer of these nifty plastic coke bombs as a possible Project Mayhem activity.

After all nothing says Merry Christmas like a nice explosion, but be very careful not to shoot your eye out kids.

Celebrity Bric-A-Brac Theatre

2008-11-24T13:01:00.009-06:00

The First Thanksgiving

Narrated by: Sean Connery

Starring Christopher Walken, John Madden, Owen Wilson and more...

Could You Step It Up A Notch?

2008-11-21T11:13:00.003-06:00

It always seems strange to me how easily I am able to vanquish the cohorts of ten to twenty anonymous ninjas that frequently attack me during my daily routine. Do these men not practice? Do they take no pride in the historic art of ninjitsu? Who purports to be the trainer of these slobs? Is wishing for my ninja enemies to be better trained too much to ask for?

It usually only takes one blow to incapacitate these so called "ninjas." Why don't they know how to take a hit? I would gladly spend a day at their training facility and hit them at half or three quarters strength to toughen them up. They can never block my attacks either. Its just one swing and they are down. Pathetic.

Also, there is the issue of tactics. They always seem to attempt to encircle me and then only to come in one at a time. I thought the whole point of surrounding someone is that you can all attack in a well orchestrated flurry of destruction, but, no, that would take some kind of coordination. That would clearly be beyond these hacks. I think that my enemies just pick people up off the street and put them in black uniforms. Any respectable master would weep upon watching these farcical attempts at the martial arts.

Seriously, this is starting to get depressing...

Could you at least spare me the dignity of a worthy opponent?

So many questions...

One Of These Days...

2008-11-20T12:10:00.001-06:00

I'm going to break a huge news story on this blog.

I'm talking story of the century here.

Unfortunately no one will believe me. Despite my constant insistence that I never lie and that things I say really do make sense.

It will be your loss though, for you will be unable to use this vital piece of information to your advantage, and I will.

On second thought, if I can use this to my advantage, why would I ever tell you?

It's not like I make money off this blog and its not like I care about my journalistic credibility.

Forget it then. I will not break any huge news stories on this blog.If my sources give me anything good, I will sit at home content in my advanced knowledge of world events, modifying my plan for world domination while you will sit at home blissful in your ignorance.

That will probably work out best for the both of us.

Enjoy Your Lifetime Of Servitude...

2008-11-19T12:48:00.011-06:00

A conspiracy theory attempts to explain the ultimate cause of a usually political, social, or historical event as a secret, and often deceptive, plot by a covert alliance of powerful people or organizations rather than as an overt activity or as natural occurrence.

Although historically there have been plots successfully and unsuccessfully carried out by groups of people, the term is mostly used negatively to dismiss allegedly misconceived, paranoid or outlandish rumors.

There are conspiracy theories concerning Abraham Lincoln's Assassination, The Moon Landing, and even The Attack On The World Trade Center.

I even came across one regarding how the CIA invented crack to subdue inner city populations. I found the idea quite inspiring as a scheme to take over the world. Drug addiction makes people very predictable...in certain ways.

If you control their access to the drug, you control the addict.

Now how to enact this on a large scale?

It is difficult to expose a worldwide population to a drug without their knowledge and consent.

So I explored another avenue...

There are certain things upon which every man, woman and child is just as dependent as the addict to his drug.

That's right, I am referring to food and water.

Yes, if you control those, you control the world! Best of all you can make the shortage appear to result from some other outside cause. Say perhaps...an economic crisis and then by the very fact that I am the only one who can supply it, I will be lauded as a hero and elevated to emperor for life.

No one will dare bite the hand that feeds them, so to speak.

When will I enact my plan you ask? How will I possibly take control of the world's food and water supply? What, do you think I am some kind of cartoon villain who would expose the details of my plan when there is any possible chance of affecting its outcome?

No. I did it thirty-five minutes ago.

Enjoy your lifetime of servitude.

L33t Haxors Pwned My PC

2008-11-17T22:58:00.011-06:00

Didn't think it would happen to us, but it did...

Two out of the three computers on our home network were infected by a virus on Thursday that totally incapacitated them.

I had to completely wipe the hard drives and do new installations of the OS and all programs.

We didn't loose any of our personal documents, pictures or mp3s luckily. There are backup copies of all that stuff on an unaffected external hard drive, but it still has been a big pain in the ass.

I'm still attempting to get everything back the way it was and my job's IT department is working on reinstalling all my work related programs.

At least one good thing came of it though...

Since both our computer were down Season and I got two days off from work to just relax together.

So, thanks Zero Cool and Acid Burn for creating that virus and unintentionally allowing me to spend some extra time with my sweetheart. Now go off and hack the planet elsewhere please.

Veterans Day

2008-11-11T07:35:00.000-06:00

To many people, especially the nation's thousands of combat veterans, this day is an important reminder to pay tribute to the service and sacrifice of the men and women who in defense of our freedom have bravely worn the uniform of the United States.

Today, I read stories of celebration and remembrance of our military veterans and I am honored to be among that group of Americans.

I take enormous pride in how my fellow servicemen have fought, how they lived, and now take time to truly remember their sacrifices.

Our brave men and women in uniform – both past and present – are the storm that gives chase to evil and safe harbor to liberty.

From one veteran to another, I salute your service.

To the civilians I'd like to say thank you for your support, it was a pleasure and a privilege to serve.

The Heist

2008-11-10T12:37:00.009-06:00

Toyota has a launched a peculiar ad campaign in Australia for their new Corolla featuring a kitten/human hybrid with an attitude...

Look out bad kittens! Pouncer is taking those sardines right meow!

Semper Fidelis

2008-11-10T10:17:00.013-06:00

Happy Birthday to the United States Marine Corps!

Today, November 10th, the United States Marine Corps celebrates the birth of the organization, founded in 1775 by the Continental Congress. Two hundred and thirty-three years of service.

Please join me in raising a toast to all the brave men and women of The United States Marine Corps. Those who serve, those who have served and those who have fallen in defense our great nation.

Thanks jarheads...now drop and give me twenty!

Talk To Me Goose...

2008-11-09T01:16:00.018-06:00

In other political news: Since “Maverick” wasn’t elected the next best thing we can do now is support “Iceman” in his endeavor to represent the good people of New Mexico as their governor.

According to the New York Post, in a cell phone interview from Bulgaria, Kilmer said, "There's a rumor that I'm maybe thinking about running to be governor of New Mexico." "Well, it's sort of true."

Is his ego writing checks his body can't cash?

"After I wrap this film, I'm off to LA to see my kids then home to New Mexico to talk to friends and see what they say."

Sounds like he feels the need...the need for speed.

"I know I'm not yet qualified for the job."

Don’t worry Val neither is Obama and he's about to be President.

"It's not like I need fame. If that's what it's all about, I wouldn't live in New Mexico." (Burn!)

Good luck Val Kilmer, even if you don't win you can still be the governor's wingman any time.

Kiss A Wookie, Kick A Droid...

2008-11-07T14:02:00.004-06:00

An a capella tribute to John Williams

News Of Hope And Change...

2008-11-07T11:51:00.023-06:00

In domestic news: Apparently the Obama campaign is implementing his policies on Americans before he even takes the oath of office.

Lines were long and tempers flared Wednesday not to vote but to get paid for canvassing for Barack Obama. Several hundred people are still waiting to get their pay for last-minute campaigning. Police were called to the Obama campaign office on North Meridian Street downtown to control the crowd.

Perhaps the campaign thought there were other people more deserving of the money.

Eventually people did start getting paid, but some said they were missing hours and told to fill in paperwork making their claim and that eventually they would get a check in the mail.

“Still that’s not right. I’m disappointed. I’m glad for the president, but I’m disappointed in this system,” said Diane Jefferson, temporary campaign worker.

“It should have been $480. It’s $230,” said Imani Sankofa.

Maybe when Obama said he would only raise taxes on those making over $250, he literally meant $250. Go home and wait for your free healthcare.

“They gave us $10 an hour. So we added it. I added up all the hours so it was supposed to be at least $120. All I get is $90,” said Charles Martin.

"I worked nine hours a day for four days and got paid half of what I should have earned,” said Randall Waldon.

Campaigning for Obama was all fun and exciting until it’s your hard-earned money he’s screwing with.

Some people weren’t satisfied with filling out a claim form for money they felt was still due to them.

“They say that they gonna call you or they going to mail it to you, but I don’t know. We’ll see what happens,” said Antron Grose.

“Talking about they’ll mail it to us. I ain’t worried about that, man. They’re not going to mail nothin’,” said Martin.

"I want my money today! It's my money. I want it right now!" yelled one former campaign worker.

Stop being so selfish and unpatriotic!

It doesn't stop there...

Obama's new website has a section titled: "America Serves"

Obama will call on citizens of all ages to serve America, by developing a plan to require fifty hours of community service in middle school and high school and one hundred hours of community service in college every year. Obama will encourage retiring Americans to serve by improving programs available for individuals over age fifty-five, while at the same time promoting youth programs such as Youth Build and Head Start.

Isn't this a direct violation of the 13th Amendment, I believe. It mentions specifically the abolition of "involuntary servitude"...

Under his plan, Obama has said [insert college] students would be required to "serve" in order to keep their scholarships.

I realize the amendment was to abolish slavery, but would requiring students to serve fall under "involuntary servitude"?

UPDATE: The website page has now been changed and suddenly, all mention of “required” has been disappeared and the college tuition incentive has been added.

Since when do we need a government mandate to tell people when and where to volunteer their free time? Paying someone to “volunteer” doesn't hat diminishes the whole act of volunteering?

At one time in our history church groups would volunteer to assist their community. Now, we have indoctrination into the Church of Obama where you will be compelled to serve. Doesn't everybody think that the best way than to instill a sense of community is by force?

Maybe not...which might explain the sudden surge in firearm sales.

Also, a case of post-election nerves sent stocks plunging Wednesday as investors, again anxious about a recession, began questioning what impact a Barack Obama presidency will have on business and the overall economy. The Dow Jones industrials dropped more than four hundred points and the major indexes all fell.

In foreign news: Excited that the candidate they endorsed won the election, Hamas celebrated by breaking the six month ceasefire and firing rockets into Israel.

Not to be left out of the fun, around the same time that it became clear Barack Obama would be the next President of the United States, Russian President Dmitri Medvedev announced plans for Russian deployment of a new missile system on the EU border.

This is posted presented kind of tongue-in-cheek, but it makes me wonder...Is this a taste of what we have to look forward to?

What Next For Obama Supporters?

2008-11-06T17:57:00.003-06:00

Macs vs. PCs

2008-11-06T14:13:00.004-06:00

Like Republicans and Democrats

PC and Mac users also have a similar bitter rivalry

Will it be a fight to the death or will diplomacy win the day?

Happy Guy Fawkes Day

2008-11-05T13:30:00.006-06:00

On the day after the election of Barack Obama, it's especially ironic that today also happens to be Guy Fawkes Day. With that in mind, here's an excerpt from a speech in the movie V for Vendetta (influenced by Ayn Rand) from the title character, "V", addressing his struggle against a totalitarian government:

“Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn’t there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who’s to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you’re looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn’t be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor...He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives.”

United We Stand...

2008-11-05T09:00:00.010-06:00

I'd like to be optimistic, but it seems my predictions were off.

Jimmy Carter has just won his second term.

Economy a bit on the shaky side: Check

Unpopular Republican President blamed for the loss successor: Check

Trouble with Iran brewing: Check

Energy crisis: Check

National newcomer Democrat elected as president: Check

Career Washington insider elected as Vice-President: Check

Russians/Soviets feeling belligerent and expansionistic: Check

Seriously though, I hope that President Elect Obama will be a better President than Carter was.

I can't think of any words adequate to the occasion of America electing its first black President, so I'll just say this: This may be a bleak day for the Republican Party and for conservatism, but come what may in the years ahead, it's a great day for our country.

My sincere congratulations go to President Elect Barack Obama for his victory last night. I’ve never supported him and I will likely disagree with him a lot, but like it or not, he’s my president.

As a great man once said “Country first.”

Since the Democrats hold nearly all the cards now with a majority in both chambers of Congress (which is kind of scary) they really have to put up or shut up. I happen to believe that Obama and Congressional Democrats will do things that cause harm to America. Unless his victory somehow leads him to become a centrist rather than a liberal ideologue once in office.

I have certain principles, beliefs and ideals. I had them before yesterday, I still have them today, and I will keep them long after President Elect Obama takes the oath of office.

I do not consider myself to have an overarching ideology. My principles, beliefs, and ideals were assembled on a point-by-point basis, derived from careful and rational thought on each issue individually. As such, the assigning of any such labels or categories to me means nothing, and the rise and fall of those labels and categories trouble me not one bit.

Yesterday, many of my principles, beliefs, and ideals were rejected by the majority, but I don't feel alone. John McCain won about 48% of the vote after all. I do not take that as a rebuke in the least. Rather, I see it as a challenge to continue espousing the things I believe in, as strongly and persuasively as I can.

I do not take it as an "opportunity" to re-examine them. I do that on a regular basis anyway. I have arrived at them by my own experiences, thoughts, studies, and contemplations. As those are ongoing processes, they have already been tested and revised and corrected when needed. To say that I suddenly need to re-evaluate these things because of an election is to say that I do not hold them that dearly at all, and they are subject to the approval of the majority.

They are not and they never will be.

I have concerns about President Obama and his plans for America.

I very well may be wrong.

Lord knows I've been wrong before, on enough other issues.

Unfortunately the facts are not showing me that I am at this time.

If President Obama does pull off his plans and they do make things better despite my fears to the contrary...

At that point, with actual facts before me, I will re-evaluate my principles, beliefs, and ideals, and how they apply to certain issues.

But not yet.

Not without evidence to the contrary other than "a lot of people disagree with you."

I shall wait and see.

Until then, though, I will remain true to my own self.

I'll close with President Elect Obama's own words:

"Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long... while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress... And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn-- I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president too."

The work ahead is not the President's alone; the task is for all us.

United we stand...divided we fall.

Let's Get Ready To Rumble!

2008-11-04T12:47:00.009-06:00

Bring It On!

(Click for large)

Get Out And Vote!

2008-11-04T10:50:00.011-06:00

Nothing like exercising your democratic right to vote! U-S-A! U-S-A!

The polling place was very conveniently located; I could actually see it from my backyard; at a local church. I did have to wait in line for approximately an hour and forty-five minutes though.

It seems almost strange that after at least eighteen months of presidential campaigning and political theatrics it all comes to an end in one day.

I voted for John McCain for president along with the other local level politicians who I thought were good choices too.

There was something odd that I heard while in line though. An oddity that seemed prevalent on both sides. One person said that he had to elect John McCain to protect his values and another said that it would take an Obama administration to affirm his.

Politicians are not going to make your morals right or wrong. Politicians will not affirm anything about you. If you are voting for someone who agrees with you, that's fine, but to think that your morals or values will be in jeopardy if a certain politician loses?

Vote for the politician you agree with, but don't think that a "loss" means that your morals are in jeopardy or that your character may be in danger of being lost. They aren't.

You do not need John McCain or Barack Obama to tell you how to live and what is important. We all have what, I believe it was C.S. Lewis called, a sort of moral law engraved on our hearts.

Our morality, whether we find it guided by faith, reason or any of the various -isms in the world our morals as, individuals or a people, are not in jeopardy.

So, go out and vote, but don't lose sight of your own moral compass. Even if the "Other Guy" (whomever that is for you) wins the election, you are still you. The country will go on and you as an individual will still have choices to make.

Night Light

2008-11-02T08:00:00.000-06:00

Halloween - Wrap-Up

2008-10-31T23:47:00.016-05:00

Gabriel dressed as a wizard this year for Halloween.
Here he is protecting the kingdom from evil with his magical staff.

The front yard was decorated and our giant skull filled with goodie bags for all the trick or treaters we hoped would come by.

Trick Or Treating didn’t start in earnest until about 7:30 PM and ended at about 9:30 PM. We had a pretty good turn out. Guessing from the treat bags we had left over at the end of the night approximately sixty kids came by the house.

We went up and down the streets in the neighborhood and Gabriel had fun collecting a huge amount of candy Trick Or Treating.

Season also took Gabriel down to the community center to attend a Halloween Carnival. They had games and were giving away candy and prizes. Gabriel won a German chocolate cake in the cake walk, but didn’t take a prize in the costume contest. A Rubix Cube won.

I also didn’t win any prizes for the costume contest at my work.

Instead of my awesome costume these others were picked...

This guy won "Most Creative Costume". First, it's a pre-packaged costume. How is that even remotely creative? Secondly, this costume has to be among the top ten racist costumes sold. I think the HR representative must have missed a few of her own sensitivity courses letting that costume win anything other than an e-mail asking him to change clothes and leave for the rest of the day.

This was the winner of the "Spookiest Costume" prize. She should have been awarded the creative prize. At least she made an effort and created her own costume. Spooky though? She looks like a goth girl who had an accident with a cotton candy machine.

The "Best Costume" prize went to this guy dressed as V from V For Vendetta. Another pre-packaged outfit consisting of black wig, gloves, shirt, pants, boots, cloak, a Guy Fawkes mask and fake knifes. That’s the best costume? Seriously? A character from a 2005 movie dressed all in black. Who the heck was judging this thing?

I put together my own costume. I had a real sword!

It's cause I'm a virtual employee right?

You didn't want to pay the postage to mail me my prize.

Fine, Happy Halloween! You bunch of ding-dongs!

The Voice In The Attic

2008-10-31T10:39:00.036-05:00

There was an old farmhouse that, until it was torn down, stood in the middle of a three acre plot of land in Mansfield, Texas.

The land belongs to Season's parents, who had purchased the otherwise barren expanse with the intent of building a home on the northwest edge of the property closest to the main road. The home was built, the perimeter fenced, and the rest of the land used to hold the many pieces of heavy equipment that Season’s step-father, uses for his sand and gravel company. After toying with the idea of renovating the sixty year old farmhouse and turning it into a guest house, they decided against it and now only used it for storage.

Last summer, Season received an invitation from her parents for us to spend a few days at their home, so we packed our overnight bags and made the four hour drive from our home in Oklahoma, looking forward to a pleasant weekend.

For the record, Season and I share an interest in the paranormal. We both enjoy horror movies, scary novels, and the occasional worthwhile spooky documentary. We’ve also tried our hand at "ghost hunting" once during a ghost tour in San Antonio, Texas.

What really captures our imaginations; however, are EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) audio recordings. Some of the anomalies that we had heard on these recordings could easily be written off using more earthbound than otherworldly explanations, yet there are some that even a rational mind must admit are beyond the scope of common experience and understanding.

In any case, beyond having heard or read about such occurrences, we had never had a personal experience involving a disembodied voice.

Not until the weekend that we spent at Season’s parents' home, in July of 2007.

We arrived in Mansfield late on a Friday evening, and after a little catching up, we decided to turn in. Laying awake in bed talking, not quite able to sleep just yet, our conversation turned to the old farmhouse that stood about fifty yards off the south side of the house. I was as much enticed by the farmhouse's seemingly ancient, decrepit beauty as I was impressed by its subtle yet unmistakable air of foreboding. I mentioned how creepy it had looked to me under the light of the moon as we approached the house, and how perfect a setting it seemed for the types of hauntings I was so fond of reading about on dark wintry nights. I asked what it was like inside and she responded by telling me she didn't know, she had never been inside.

"My step-dad never let me inside." "He says it's not safe in there."

At breakfast the next morning though, the notion that I'd planted in her head was alive and kicking and she broached the subject of the old farmhouse with her step-father.

"It's a dangerous place, there's bats in the attic and I don't want you poking around in there," was all he would say when asked about it, attempting to turn the conversation from the subject at hand by asking if we wanted to ride the four wheelers after breakfast.

An hour after breakfast, Season informed me, with a mischievous grin, that we would be "investigating the old farmhouse" just as soon as her step-father headed into town on some errands. Gabriel had gone off with his grandmother to a water park so we would have the whole place to ourselves.

The sun was straight overhead as we approached the doorway of the old farmhouse. We hesitated at the entrance, casting a glance back at the house to ensure no lectures about venturing into unsound structures would be delivered over dinner that night. The door less entryway opened up to a fairly large room crowded with cardboard boxes and a large worktable stacked with various grease stained engine parts. To the right, there was yet another doorway that led into a much smaller room. The way into this room was made impenetrable by more stacks of boxes and crates. Off to the left, I saw an even smaller doorway that exposed a rickety flight of stairs leading, presumably, to the attic above.

The interior was fairly well-lit and we were both engrossed in our own thoughts and busily exploring when we heard the thump overhead.

I wish we'd had a video camera to record our reactions to this sound, because we both nearly jumped out of my skins.

I started to mutter "Did you hear that" when Season cut me off with a swatting of her arm and a sharp "Shhhhh!" Dead silence ensued for the next thirty seconds as we stood there until I finally spoke again in a whisper. "Could be the bats Buddy warned us about?” The noise came again, this time more distinct, not directly overhead but further toward the back, as of something in the far corner of the attic above our heads. Immediately our heads turned toward the doorway to our left, the doorway leading to the short flight of steps into the attic. Season was about to say something when it came a third time, actually loosening dirt from the rafters and punctuated by a dragging shuffle on the floorboards overhead.

I said "It sounds like there's someone up there..."

What we heard next was a voice, soft and low, muffled by the rafters and the overhead floorboards that separated us from the attic and it called the words:

"David, is that you?"

One moment we were in that dark, stuffy farmhouse, the next we were out in the bright sunlight with the breeze blowing in our faces as we stepped lively through the tall grass back toward the main house. It was that quick, that synchronous.

Once away from whatever danger we may have been in or imagined we were in, within the safety of sunlight, you'd think that we would have found ourselves a safe space somewhere and sat talking about what we had heard, or what we thought we had heard, but we didn't. We simply turned heels quickly, left, and not another mention of the experience was had that day until we found ourselves in bed again late that night, unable to sleep and unable to forget.

I brought up the topic and we discussed what we thought we'd heard, and danced around a million different possible explanations for what it could have been, but the explanation that occurred to me as we lay there in bed, sleepless, was a bit more frightening.

"Maybe there's someone living up there that nobody knows about..."

The idea sent shivers up and down my spine, offering up images of escaped mental patients creeping onto unsuspecting people's properties in the dead of night and it alarmed me to the point where I actually got out of bed, stood at the window looking out onto the property offering a clear view of the moon washed farmhouse, and actually considered either going out there with a weapon from the house or calling the local police to check it out. We could have been mistaken in what we heard though and the last thing we wanted to do (apart from admitting to her step-father that we had betrayed his wishes to keep out) was call the police to investigate the overactive imaginings of a young couple.

So we determined that in the morning, we would go out to investigate yet again. This time as we approached the farmhouse (not having mentioned our concerns to her parents for fear of causing undue worry) I was armed with a baseball bat I'd found lying on the grass and Season, perhaps not entirely convinced the sounds had come from something living, with a long-handled flashlight and a mini-cassette recorder she found in the house.

Our second entrance to the farmhouse proved to be a lot more ordinary than my imagination had fancied it might be, and the notion that someone may have actually taken up residence in that ramshackle old home was quickly put to rest on a second look. Also the likeliness that anyone attempting to climb up the flight of stairs leading to the attic would most likely crash through the rotted wood and break a leg, or worse.

We stood listening in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Nothing, no sounds except for the occasional crack of the old wood settling. We decided that since we had come this far, we were damned if we were going to leave without a good and thorough search and so we set about the task of figuring out a way to ascend the steps leading to the attic.

I'd spotted a fairly fresh plank of wood about six feet long, two feet wide, and three inches thick, lying in the yard of the farmhouse as we approached, so I came up with the idea that perhaps we could lay the plank lengthwise across the top of the steps to crawl up.

Once we had constructed the ramp and after another five minutes quietly arguing over who should be the first to go, I went up the length of the plank. By this time the sun had emerged and the sunlight cast through the holes in the roof was good enough so that I could see everything. As I stood on the floorboards of the attic, determining if they were in well enough shape to sustain my weight, I scanned the large area before me, baseball bat at the ready.

When I look back on it I honestly don't know what I was expecting to see up there in the attic, but whatever it may have been, whether flesh and bone or otherwise, there was nothing to be found. Only a severely rusted bedspring, an equally old mattress leaning askew against the near wall, a scattering of crates, and a decrepit rocking chair that sat in the farthest corner of the attic facing the wall.

I stood there staring at the back of that chair until Season's voice, directly behind me, startled me out of my daze. "It’s empty." I turned around to find that as I'd stood there taking an inventory of the space before me, she had made her way up the plank and into the attic.

She was aiming the beam of her flashlight and scanning the attic. "So much for our stranger in the attic theory." I added, motioning to the inch-thick layer of dust that covered every visible square foot of the floorboards. If anyone had been in the attic, it was a long, long time before we had ever arrived. I'm not sure how long we stood there, but it was long enough for the two of us to determine that none of our explanations fit what we had heard.

As we turned to begin our descent back down our makeshift ramp, Season stopped and fished a blank cassette out of her pocket and inserted it into the recorder. I said something like "Hey, don't bother, let’s just get out of here." but she informed me that she was going to leave the micro-cassette behind in RECORD mode. She set it down on one of the floorboards just inside the attic entryway. "Just to satisfy my curiosity," she said and we left.

We never did tell anyone what we had been up to that day, or the day previous. We were set to head back home early the following morning and we both agreed it was far better to exchange pleasantries on the final evening of our visit rather than to choke the air with questions about previous tenants, the history of the land, or the possibility of spirits that linger after death. According to Season, things like that didn't go over too well with her step-father.

We realized that in order to retrieve the cassette recorder Season had left behind, we would not only have to brave the rickety ramp of our invention once again, but we'd also have to make it out there early enough so that her no one would see us. We also decided that it would be best to take down the makeshift ramp, so proof of our actions wouldn't be discovered. We resolved to wake up half an hour before dawn and sneak out to the old farmhouse one last time.

When we got there, this time stepping our way through the dark with the aid of a flashlight, everything was just as we'd left it. No signs of any ghostly disturbance, no violently overturned boxes, no footprints in the dust other than those we'd created ourselves. I cautiously but hurriedly crawled my way up the wooden plank, reached a hand into the darkness, and retrieved the cassette recorder which was in the exact place we had left it the day before. I made my way down and we took down the ramp.

I was patting the dust and dirt from my pants legs when it came again. The same sudden, sharp thump that we had heard two days prior. My first thought was that Season must have heard something moving up there before the thump sounded, because when I looked at her, her head was already turned upwards and her eyes were fixed on the attic entrance directly above us. My eyes followed her stare and I looked up, but there was nothing discernible in the darkness beyond the threshold. Season had just began to ask me if I'd heard it too but her words broke off when another thud, this time more jarring than the first, almost violent in its force, sent a fistful of dust shooting from the rafters. The horrible, sickening shuffling sound came next, and the image that entered my mind then was that of someone, or something, dragging itself across the floor almost directly over our heads, approaching the attic entry.

In an instant the two of us were stumbling through the dark toward the front entrance and within five seconds we were back out into the cool predawn air. As we passed through the doorway of the old farmhouse for the last time, we heard the voice again, this time much closer, coming from atop the attic stairs where we had stood only seconds ago, this time much clearer, raspy, nearly gravelly, calling after us. And the words it said were:

"David...don't leave me all alone!"

We stopped about ten feet short of her parents' back porch and tried to regain our composure. Season suddenly remembered the micro-cassette recorder, checked it out closely and announced "It's turned off…halfway through the tape.” “As if someone shut it off on purpose." I tried to reason that maybe the batteries had run out, but she quickly dispelled that notion when she pressed the REWIND button and it kicked immediately into life. It only took a few seconds for the tape to reach the start of the spool, and just as she was about to press the PLAY button, the back door swung open and Season's mother, Charla, was standing there in her morning robe.

"What are you two doing up so early?" she asked. "Oh, just getting the car situated" I quickly replied and we darted back inside the house to have breakfast.

It wasn't until we said our farewells, and hit the road once again; all the while warily eyeing the old farmhouse as we made our way down the long gravel driveway headed for the main road with Gabriel safely conked out in the back seat; that we were finally alone and able to listen to what it was that may have been recorded.

I wasn't certain that anything would have come through on the tape, but I wanted to be able to listen without having to strain to hear over sound of the engine so as soon as we'd gone about a mile, I pulled the car off to the side of the road under the shade of a tree and shut the engine off.

The first sound head on the tape were Season's own words ("Just to satisfy my curiosity"), then the creaking and groaning of the floorboards and the racket of our footfalls as we made our way down the plank and exited the farmhouse. Five minutes of silence ensued, only the occasional sound of the old structure settling in on itself, then another five or six minutes, then the sound of an airplane flying by in the distance, then more silence. Just as the tape was about to reach the point where it had mysteriously stopped on itself, I heard something...

On first impression it sounded like someone breathing in short, shallow breaths. I was opening my mouth to ask Season to stop the tape and rewind it, when I realized the sound was only getting louder. I could tell by the expression on Season's face that I was not, in fact, hearing things. She was hearing it too. What came next, though, sent shivers down my spine and made the sounds we'd heard in the farmhouse, frightening and inexplicable though they were, seem like nothing more than a precursor. The breaths seemed to be getting louder, and although no sound of movement could be heard, I got the distinct impression that something was drawing nearer to the microphone. It frightened me to think that the very cassette recorder Season now held in trembling hands could have come so close to, or may even have been touched by, whatever it was that was causing that horrible sound.

The breathing faded, almost abruptly, followed by approximately ten seconds of absolute silence.

Then the singing began. It was quite unmistakably, and most distinctly, the voice of a woman and although I could not make out the words, she was singing something. A lullaby, perhaps? To this day I am not sure, even though we've listened to the tape hundreds of times since and have tried amplifying the sound through various means. It is certainly not a melody I, or Season, or anyone else we've shared the recording with, are familiar with.

It isn't that horrible breathing or the faint yet undeniable strain of song delivered by that mysterious voice that still, to this day, haunts my mind in the quiet dark before sleep overtakes me. Rather, it is the final three seconds of that recording that will always stay with me, and will always serve as proof to my mind that despite our best efforts to argue to the contrary, there are things that happen in this life that are beyond the bounds of rational explanation.

The singing voice stopped abruptly and was replaced by a dry, hoarse giggle. A hideous, insane laughter that erupted into a cackle just as an invisible finger reached out, brushed against the microphone, and pressed STOP.

~HAPPY HALLOWEEN!~

Work Halloween Costume Contest

2008-10-30T18:52:00.016-05:00

Gaze upon the glory that is this year’s entry to my employer's Halloween costume contest! Laugh all you want, but wish me luck!

Note the gleam of just barley contained Feng shui energy emanating from my finger tips?

Back off or I will rearrange all your furniture for negative qi!

Since I am no longer a cubicle dweller and work from my virtual office here at home I just e-mailed in my submission. This is a lot better then wearing your costume at work all day and trying to be all professional and taken seriously. Well, I suppose the sword could have played a good part in rectifying that aspect though.

I definitely prefer my home office compared to being cubicled.

My usual attire is pajamas, until about noon.

No daily commute, which equals big savings with the high gas prices.

No office politics or gossip, although I sometimes feel out of the loop when I am told about things going on at the NY offices.

Self-discipline and good motivation are the most important part of being a virtual. You won't (and can't) be ‘micro-managed’.

Your efficiency is in your hands and obviously I've spent a very productive work day with getting that picture ready to submit and then blogging about it. Working from home rocks!

Frivolous Fun: Use/look for the Halloween Candy Code tomorrow

Halloween Art Contest...

2008-10-29T21:25:00.007-05:00

This series of artwork depicting Jason Voorhees dancing comes from a Halloween art contest held over at X-Entertainment...

You can click some of the images to see a larger version.

"It’s The Great Pumpkin, Jason Voorhees"

"Death Dip"

"Y.M.C.A."

“The Watusi”

Which is your favorite?

The Perfect Place To Die - Part Five

2008-10-28T22:03:00.027-05:00

The Perfect Place To Die

Part Five

Lost

Tamiko was keenly aware of the rapid pounding of her heart. The blood thundered in her ears. Her breath came in labored gasps and perspiration beaded her upper lip. Irrelevant thoughts crowded into her mind, distracting her and sending her off course. She was desperately trying to get out of the forest when she twisted her ankle on some moss covered rocks that jutted up out of the ground.

Miko went crashing to the forest floor and found herself struggling in swathes of sticky colored plastic tape, like a buzzing fly in a spider’s web. She remembered Mamoru’s grisly explanation that scavengers looking to loot dead bodies in the forest used the tape to mark the routes they were searching.

In that moment she felt helpless and without power, a victim of the forest. She was completely at its mercy. Gazing up into the dense, greenery overhead, she saw a notice in red letters nailed to a trunk.

Please Reconsider Before You Decide To Die

She didn’t want to die.

Tamiko could hear foot steps slowly and methodically approaching her. After reading the note grasped in her dead husband’s hand and running she had at some point picked up the knife again. She could still hear the sickening sucking noise that it made as it came out of Mamoru. The cold forest floor seemed to be draining all the energy from her body. She willed herself to get up and keep moving.

She had to find a way out.

Entering The Woods

When they had arrived at the entrance to the forest the sun had briefly gone behind a cloud and a cold wind had gusted through the trees. Miko had looked up at the sign and felt a shiver run down her spine. She tightened her grip on Mamoru’s hand. One would never have guessed that a place of so much outstanding natural beauty could camouflage such a site of death and misery.

“Are you certain you want to go in there?” Tamiko asked.

The breeze sprang up and the leaves on the trees quivered and shook. They rattled in the branches and Miko fancied she could hear voices whispering to each other on the wind. The twigs creaked and snapped. She remembered the tales she’d heard about the Yūrei, the spirits of the dead that haunted the forest.

The dead were supposedly jealous of the living and not very friendly.

Mamoru gave her a strained smile.

“Yes, let us walk for a bit in the forest...it seems such a peaceful place...a perfect place to...” Mamoru broke off and tugged her across the archway onto the path.

They walked on in silence each absorbed in their own thoughts. She kept having the reoccurring feeling that they were being watched, but they hadn’t come across anyone else on the path for about ten minutes now. She was not enjoying herself at all.

When she looked up at Mamoru there was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his face was pinched in a frown.

“Mamoru, you really don’t look well...we should go back.”

He stopped abruptly a scowl coming over his features that caused her to let go of his hand and step back.

"What is wrong Mamoru?” “Why do you look at me like that?”

Instead of answering her Mamoru reached into his right pocket and thrust a slip of paper at her. It landed between her feet and even though it was badly crumpled she knew exactly what it was.

A note from Andrew that read:

My Dearest Miko

I am staying at the usual hotel. I want you to come to me there as soon as you can. I believe that we only have one life and we must follow our hearts. I know you are the only woman with whom I can be truly happy. My room number is 850. I am waiting for you.

Much love

Andrew

She had foolishly slipped it into her her Japanese-English dictionary, forgotten about it and somehow Mamoru had come across it.

This was terrible. What could she say?

Before she even had time to finish that thought Mamoru quickly brought his hand out of his left pocket producing a very large, sharp knife and took a step towards her.

“I can’t believe you would dishonor me so!” he shouted at her.

“I have done nothing, but work hard to provide for you...love you and this...this is how you repay me?”

Tamiko took another step back and put her hands up in a warding off gesture. She could not believe the how in moments things had changed so drastically.

“Mamoru…stop…what are you doing?”

She took another involuntary step backwards.

“I’m sorry...you were never there...we grew apart...please...it is over between Andrew and I though...that note...he gave that to me in the hopes that I would leave you...but I told him it was over...please Mamoru...I’m so sorry you found that note...I wanted to start over with you.”

She had never known Mamoru to be a violent man, but that knife.

What was he going to do with that knife?

The arm grasping the knife fell limply to his side.

“You wanted to start over?” he asked incredously.

“Yes.” She whispered. "I broke it off with him."

Tamiko took a step towards Mamoru. “Please, drop that knife.”

A multitude of emotions crashed across his face. “I was going to do something stupid...perhaps...yes...perhaps we can start over.”

His gaze then settled on someone behind her. Mamoru began shaking his head. “No, wait...there is your Andrew...your English teacher...there he is...to take you away from me...he won't stop!”

“What?” Miko asked in disbelief.

Tamiko followed Mamoru’s stare, but did not see Andrew at all.

Mamoru raised the knife, yelled an obscenity and charged.

Miko screamed and closed her eyes.

Air rushed past her as Mamoru ran off the path and into the forest.

Leaving The Path

Tamiko called after Mamoru and after a brief moment of hesitation went after him.

She hadn’t realized how deeply into the woods she had gone after Mamoru until she was hopelessly lost. She picked her way over the lichen covered roots that twisted along the ground, trying not to look too closely at the remnants of leather wallets and rusted keys gleaming dully from under the decaying mounds of leaves. She glanced down and noticed a long length of string near her foot.

She guessed it was someone’s strategy to ensure that they got out of the forest. She hoped they were successful and began to wonder if she would ever get out.

Her mind was still teeming with unbidden thoughts when she came upon Mamoru.

He lay face down with his foot was caught in between some lichen covered roots. Miko rolled him over into a sitting positon with his back against a tree. It appeared that he had tripped and fallen onto the knife. She reached out and touched his face. His skin was ice cold. It seemed all life had left his body long ago.

She knelt down and pressed her warm, moist face against his clammy, pale cheek. “Oh Mamoru.” she whispered.

Then, as if in a grotesque reply, shockingly, he fell forward and released a gush of air. Mamoru coughed into her face, spraying her with tiny droplets of blood. She reared back in terror, her whole body quaking.

Mamoru roughly grabbed Miko. “Go!” “They feed on your sadness.” he sputtered.

“Don’t believe them…they are not what they seem…go!” a bubble of blood formed and pooped on his lips and then the light extinguished from his once kind, mild brown eyes.

Miko sat there a moment in stunned disbelief trying to puzzle out Mamoru’s cryptic last words. She forced herself to remain calm. Fighting back her revulsion she slowly and deliberately, she put a trembling hand on the handle of the knife and drew it out of his body.

She then noticed the piece of paper in Mamoru’s hand, gently extracted it and read:

My darling Miko

If I am successful, this will be my final letter to you. Do you remember when we were first married and Yamitsui sent me on all those courses so far away? I wrote to you nearly every day. I missed you so much. We were so young and carefree in those days. I still miss you. I miss the sweet Yoko who showed me so much love and affection. When I saw the note from Andrew that dropped out of your book I knew I had failed you. I knew that you could not love me any more. I have lost you, I have lost everything and I am nothing.

Goodbye

Mamoru

Tamiko groaned with realization.

The knife had never been meant for her.

The sounds of voices were closer this time.

She got to her feet and called out. “Help us!” “Over here!”

What Tamiko saw approaching her and the dead body of her husband through the trees caused her to flee in terror.

Found

She stumbled out onto the path scrambling to get to her feet. She didn’t think the knife would do her any good, but she stubbornly held onto it as she lurched to her feet and started up the path. Her ankle throbbed and she kept looking behind her sure that her pursuer was close at hand. As she dared another glance backward she didn’t notice the figure on the path. Miko slammed straight into it, fell onto her back, started to scream and began slashing the air in front of her from side to side with the knife.

The forest ranger jumped back just in time.

When he finally calmed Miko sufficiently so that she stopped screaming and relinquished the knife the first thing she uttered was:

“We have to get out of here...spirits of the dead...at least the spirits of the dead were once human...that thing though...that thing...” she then promptly passed out.

Home

Time may improve it, she can and does hope for that. Time may fade the memory as it has faded the scratches and bruises she obtained while running through those cursed woods. In the meantime, though, she sleeps with the lights on so that she will know at once where she is when she wakes up from the nightmares. She is still haunted by those cold, hungry dead eyes and the slobbering, mewling voices as they bent over the corpse of Mamoru...and began to feed.

~THE END~

The Politics Of Dancing...

2008-10-23T14:04:00.001-05:00

The presidential candidates show off their mad dancing skills…

Boo Who?

2008-10-22T22:14:00.010-05:00

We all know Boo Berry as the lovable spokes ghost for General Mills' Boo Berry cereal.

Since he is a ghost, I can't help but think about the fact that he's dead...or more specifically, that he is the ghost of a dead man.

This raises a very curious question:

Who was the person that died to become the ghost of Boo Berry?

No one would argue that Boo has lived a rich after-life as a corporate shill, but who was he before that and for that matter, how did he die?

Was he crushed by an unusually large blueberry bush?

Did he slip on a blueberry and take a fatal fall down a flight of stairs?

A candy mishap while on a visit to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory?

Emphysema?

Unfortunately, the world may never know.

Where Beauty Eats Braaaaiinns...

2008-10-21T22:10:00.007-05:00

My Zombie Pin-Up “Where Beauty Eats BRAAAAIINNS”

Just in time for Halloween is this 1950’s style pinup calendar featuring lovely decaying female zombie models for each month.

This thirteen month calendar is stuffed with more dead sexy girls than you can fit in a shallow grave. They dug up the idea of the vintage 1950’s pin-up and hit it over the head with a shovel.

Let yourself get infected by these bloody gore-gous women who are just dying to get under your skin and at your tasty prefrontal cortex.

Girl's Costume Warehouse...

2008-10-19T21:28:00.009-05:00

For all your sexy Halloween costume needs visit the Girl's Costume Warehouse located in Hackensack - Exit 16W off the NJ Turnpike.

Forget about it!

Halloween - Theme Song W/Lyrics

2008-10-10T14:24:00.013-05:00

The Perfect Place To Die - Part Four

2008-10-09T01:36:00.014-05:00

The Perfect Place To Die

Part Four

Tamiko was a bundle of nerves as they pulled up in front of the hotel. She sat on in the vehicle for a moment enjoying the spring sunshine, glad that the sunglasses at least shielded her eyes from Mamoru. She watched as he leapt from the car and hurried around to the passanger door, offering his hand to help her out. Managing a weak smile, she got out of the car.

“Isn’t it beautiful Miko?” She followed his gaze and took in the beauty of Mount Fuji rising grandly above the clouds. “We’ve finally made it!” He took up their suitcases and offered her his arm. She smiled and took his arm as they climbed the steps to the hotel foyer. Mamoru, so sweet and considerate, always a gentleman…Andrew. A wave of nausea and apprehension came over her causing her to stumble. Mamoru strengthened his hold of her arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, it’s just that I’ve got a small headache.” It was true. As she thought of her last meeting with Andrew the inside of her head felt like a sponge with waves of pain seeping through the holes.

While Mamoru checked them in at reception Miko sat on an elegant sofa watching the arrival of guests coming in through the revolving doors with her Japanese-English dictionary on her lap. Most of the guests were arriving for the Cherry Blossom festivals which were just beginning. The hotel was busy with tourists from all over the world. Her mind kept wandering back to Andrew. He had been so angry.

“Are you ready?” Mamoru’s voice startled her back to the present.

Mamoru slipped the card into the slot and pushed open the door of their room. Tamiko let out a little gasp of surprise. The door opened onto a large, airy room with two enormous picture windows looking out over the forest to the snow capped Mount Fuji. Bright mid- morning sunlight splashed onto the cream linen sofas with chocolate cushions artfully arranged. The gleaming wooden floors were covered in strategic places with thick beige rugs. A heavy oak coffee table stood between the sofas.

Miko walked over to the huge picture window and gazed out over the tops of the trees to the lake, shimmering in the sunlight. In the distance she could see Mount Fuji, starkly white against a dazzling blue sky; Shining and omnipotent. A group of pink flowering cherry trees coming into blossom provided a natural arch on the terrace outside the sliding glass doors.

“Mamoru, this is so very lovely!” she breathed.

”You like it?” “I’m so glad” Mamoru murmured. His expression of relief was hardly concealed as he gave her a warm smile. She had not expected such splendor, such beauty. “This is wonderful, it's more beautiful than I could have ever imagined” She wandered into the bedroom and noted the large single bed. Mamoru came up behind her and tried to kiss her neck affectionately. She moved abruptly towards the bathroom. “After that long drive a warm bath sounds inviting.” He tried to stifle his disappointment with a grin. “That’s fine, after your shower we could go down and have lunch.” Miko tilted her head to one side coyly; her sleek black hair fell over one eye. “Sounds like a good idea.” The door closed gently against all further communication. Mamoru stood looking at the door for a moment longer then with a sigh, he turned to unpacking the suitcase.

Tamiko sat gazing through the restaurant’s window, her food hardly touched. Wracked with guilt she had dressed to please him in a simple red silk dress which accentuated her hips. ”You look so wonderful” he breathed. She turned to him “Mamoru, you’ve already complimented me several times.” “Well, it’s true.” “It’s that dress...the color, it's...well, it’s so sensual” he murmured shyly.

She blushed. "I wasn't sure…I haven’t worn it for years.”

“You don't think it's too young for me?”

“No, of course not!”

"You know Miko; you still look as beautiful as when we first married.”

He gazed into her eyes, but she couldn’t maintain eye contact with him and quickly turned to look out the window again.

“You’re very quiet tonight, you seem preoccupied.”

“No, it’s just…we haven’t spent time alone like this in a long time.”

“I know I haven’t been an attentive husband.” “I let my work come between us.” “I thought it was for the best at the time, that we would be better off, but now we have a second chance.”

She couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. “Mamoru…”

She wanted so badly to tell him, but he was so sensitive and he didn’t even suspect anything. At first she had believed their marriage would endure forever. Then the stark reality of boredom and routine set in. Loneliness and isolation quickly followed. Then she met Andrew.

He reached across the table and took her hand. “I love you.”

She gripped his hand tightly and smiled at him as the tears rolled down her eyes.

“After lunch maybe we can take a walk through the forest…”

“Yes.” She said, suddenly wanting to please him, wanting to make him feel good.

“First I’ve got to go to the ladies room and clean myself up though.” She laughed and excused herself from the table, quickly making her way to the restrooms.

He poured himself a generous glass of wine and took a large drink. His eyes glittered with a feverish hope that Miko was about to cross the barrier that had divided them for so long. Perhaps she was coming back to him. He glanced back towards the rear of the restaurant, eager for her to return. It was then that he noticed a slip of paper on the ground by her seat. It must have fallen out of that dictionary that she carried around. She was always eager to practice her English. When they had entered the restaurant she had struck up a conversation with two Americans while waiting for their table. He merely watched on in proud amazement as the Americans, glad to speak in their own language, patiently babbled on with her. He fondly recalled that she had only referred to her book once. He bent down and picked up the piece of paper. Tamiko had certainly come a long way from the shy young girl he had married.

Mamoru unfolded the paper. “Perhaps there will be some words or phrases that she has translated.” He thought to himself. “I will surprise her with one when she comes back to the table.”

“Where has he gone to?” Tamiko stopped at the table and started looking around. “There he is.” She noticed him leaning over the sushi counter. “Mamoru...” He slowly turned toward her. He looked ill, his face was pale and he seemed to be sweating. She hurriedly made her way over to him. “Are you all right?” “You look sick.”

He gave her a gruesome smile. “Oh...seems something I ate didn’t agree with me.”

Putting her arm around him she started guiding him towards the door. “Let’s get you back to the room Mamoru…”

“No, I think I’ll take that walk...the fresh mountain air will do me good.” He said breaking away from her.

“Okay...” She reached for his hand and after a moments hesitation he took it.

“Looks like he had a little too much wine.” The waiter winked to the hostess who was watching them. They walked towards the entrance of the forest holding hands like two happy lovers. She smiling contentedly and he walking a little stiffly with his other hand thrust deeply into his pocket.

That was the last time they were seen together alive.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three