No Quarter (Part XI of X)

You think you get out, but they pull you back in.

Long-term readers know about my long-standing obsession with the Fifty State Quarters program, where each state has gotten the back of a quarter to extol their virtues. Ten years, five states a year. Ending, eventually, with Hawaii (A quarter that makes me smile, because we put a KING on the coin), and we’re done.

Not so fast. NOW we have the DC and US Territory Quarters. A set of six more coins for locations that most Americans are unaware we even own, much less know that our money is still good there. So, with a heavy heart, I return to the subject of savaging our coinage, in the desperate hope that these lesser lights, these territories that are the AAA baseball of the US, have learned from their big-league mentors.

Here are the rules, from previous years -

So as a reminder, here are the rules that you may have a lame quarter:
If you have to remind people what your state looks like, you may have a lame quarter.
If you use a variety of different-sized objects, you may have a lame quarter.
If one of those objects is produce, you may have a lame quarter,
If you have to label the illustration, you may have a lame quarter.
If, after you label the illustration, people still think it is something else, you DEFINITELY have a lame quarter (I'm looking at YOU, Delaware!).

The rating system will be, from top to bottom
Cool = A
Not Bad = B
Kinda Lame = C
Very Lame = D

As usual, betting on the results is discouraged but not prohibited.

District of Columbia

The DC coin is already out, and is not a bad coin. And I’m willing to give DC a break, because most of the cool buildings they could put on the coins are ALREADY on our currency, like Lincoln Memorial and the White House. Instead they chose to honor native son Edward Kennedy (Duke) Ellington, who is well known for telling people how to get OUT of DC and get to Harlem ("Take the A Train"). The only sad thing is that the natives of DC were forbidden to put on the coin the slogan they chose for their license plates "No Taxation Without Representation"), and instead had to go for the (highly ironic) "Justice for All". Big words for the only part of the continental US that doesn't get to vote in Congress.

Still, Duke Ellington. High marks for that.

Rating - A - Cool

Puerto Rico

This is a pretty coins that reads “Isla Del Encanto”, which means “Island of Enchantment” and reinforces that motto by displaying a wizard's tower and the deadly carnivorous plants that Prospero first created there in his exile there during the reign of Elizabeth R.

Supposedly this coin was to be used a material component for a 6th level wizard spell in D&D, but 4E got rid of all that stuff and Puerto Rico just didn't get the memo in time.

Rating - B - Not Bad

Guam

At this point we’re getting into the realm of “Excuse me, sir. Is THIS your island?” This is the kitchen drawer of American possessions, back past the spatulas and whisks. Guam, like Puerto Rico, was one of the territories we grabbed from the Spanish the last time we got all frisky and Imperialist. It shows the shape of the island (usually a bad sign in a coin, but let’s be honest – did YOU know what Guam looked like? Its not like its Colorado or anything). Also shown is a boat, the only way of reaching Guam, and a model of the Super Bowl trophy to congratulate the Pittsburgh Steelers over their defeat of the Seattle Seahawks a few years back.

Rating - C - Kinda Lame

American Samoa

American Samoa is so named so there is no confusion with any OTHER Samoa you happen to be dating at the moment. As with Guam, it too shows the Samoan’s dedication to the NFL by displaying its local stadium and traditional cheerleader pompoms. It has the words SAMOA MUAMUA LE ATUA on it, quoting Margaret Meade’s immortal words “Those Samoans are a surly bunch”.

Rating - C - Kinda Lame

US Virgin Islands

We’re going to avoid the obvious cheap shot here over the name and just point out that this commits all the crimes of state coinage – the official bird (the Banana Quit), the official flower (The Yellow Elder), the official tree (The Tyre Palm) and the official Diseased Whales that have washed up on the beach (Huey, Dewey, and Fidel), who apparently met their demise through eating Tyre Palms, Yellow Elders, and Banana Quits.

Rating - D - Very Lame

Northern Marina Islands

One of our most recent acquisitions, the Northern Marina Islands attained commonwealth status in 1975, making it one of the triumphs of the Ford Administration. And actually, its not that horrible of a coin, with a sea shore, a traditional craft, seabirds, and um an, well, a ... Well they call that large upright structure a latte, but it looks like someone wanted to compete with Utah for most inadvertent sexual image in the collection.

Though it may be that coin collectors just need to get out more.

Rating - B, but only because I keep giggling when I look at it.

And that does it. No, really, this time. Though I hear that the NFL, delighted by all the football imagery in this set, is going to sponsor a set of quarters, one for each of its teams - the only sticking point is whether to do it in order of admission to the league, or number of Super Bowl wins (either puts Seattle near the end of the order).

More later,

Signing - Spy Comics

That which I tell you three times is true. This is your final note. I will be making a personal appearance at Spy Comics in Federal Way this coming Saturday, February 21, from 1 to 3. I've written about Spy, which is my local shop. Rick and Paula run the joint, and are good people. They've never done a signing before, so I get to be the guinea pig/test case here. In any event, come and check out the store (1500 South 336th Street, Federal Way) and say hi! More later, Update: And it was a very pleasant signing, and those of you who missed it are still encouraged to drop in for a shop that has good selection, good service, and nice people behind the counter.

David Byrne's Electronic Ghosts

Weird. Over the past few days, I've been visited by the phantoms of former Talking Heads front man David Byrne.

Mind you, I haven't encountered the man himself, but rather a variety of his electronic avatars. Sort of like things happen in threes? From random corners of communication, David Byrne suddenly appeared in my life. And it wasn't David Byrne, but rather a host of phantasms of Byrnes past and present, a bow wave of his presence. All occurring without any direct action from the singer himself.

First off there was a bit in BoingBoing about his latest album, which is not out of the question since they cover that kind of stuff. Then, while I'm working at home, the Lovely Bride is watching a tape of "Heroes" where there is a snatch of "Psycho Killer". Then the meatspace Byrne is in town, and the local weekly's blog talks about him as a celebrity spotting.

And then two friends from work had tickets to his show at Benaroya downtown. Great seats, an energized performance, and those in charge weren't particularly fussy about people taping, so as a result, she posted her experiences on youtube.

All of this without any additional effort on Mr. Byrne's part other than just doing his (normal, superlative) job.

I seem to be living in David Byrne's world. I'm just passing through.

Signing - Spy Comics

What I tell you three times is true. This is your second warning. I will be making a personal appearance at Spy Comics in Federal Way this coming Saturday, February 21, from 1 to 3. I've written about Spy, which is my local shop. Rick and Paula run the joint, and are good people. They've never done a signing before, so I get to be the guinea pig/test case here. In any event, come and check out the store (1500 South 336th Street, Federal Way) and say hi! More later,

Guild Wars Two

I've gotten a number of private messages from fans over the past few weeks about the current status of the Guild Wars 2 project. We announced the existence of this game a while back, but have been quiet about its current status, in particular as to a firm release date. Into this vacuum has spilled a mass of concern and speculation. While attention is always appreciated, it has reached a fever pitch of late.

In response to these concerns, I want to point those interested to this message from our head honcho, Mike O'Brien.

In addition, I just like to add - no, actually I have nothing much at all to add. Mo lays everything out, and is being straight with you guys. We're fans too, fans of our own games, and want to make GW2 the best possible experience. All I can advise is patience, and do not let anticipation turn to worry.

More later.

Facebookery

It's been about a month since I lost my mind and started a Facebook page. So how do I like it?

It's been pretty interesting, but definitely a mixed bag. It is a living example of Your Mileage May Vary. But it is very effective because it understands the simple fact that not everyone communicates the same way.

And this last bit, I think, is the reason for Facebook's "overnight" popularity. People communicate differently, using different tools, and FB tries to get as many of those tools into play all at once.

Me? I tend to feed my blog over into the notes section from RSS. It's not a bad little method of using my FB page as a relay transmitter, picking up people who might not otherwise link to my blog (slackers). I'm comfortable with that. In addition, FB gives me a bit of control in allowing comments to friends (now that you know, don't abuse the privilege).

I also tend to use the "status" section, laying out whatever is on my mind at the moment (which is usually a song fragment or a movie quote). It is actually kind of fun just throw out a line and see how many people respond to it (if any - I'm not particularly vain about it). And it is fun to see the streams cross of acquaintances. One thread was responded to by a younger friend in Chicago, followed by a former co-worker from WotC, followed by a former editor from DC, followed by a current RPG-playing friend, followed by a former co-worker at Pokemon, USA. I think #2 and #5 know each other, but otherwise we're all over the place.

That said, there are features I do not use much. Email I am comfortable with, and see other long-time friends on. IM? Not so much, and I don't respond unless I am comfortable talking to you in person (IM is a "cold" medium which does not allow much in the way of emotional subtext - while in these entries I can consider and revise a bit, the time pressure of IM does not allow it).

The apps? I was buried initially in Monte Pythons gifts, free drinks, offers to join knighthood or a mafia gang or whatever. After thinking about it long and hard, I chose to ignore these. Dond't be offended - I don't dislike anyone who sent one (and do pick up the occasional Cthulhu Mythos bit), but I don't communicate that way. But its cool if that's the way YOU communicate. It is good to hear from you, even if I say no.

Similarly pictures. I have one. I really should get around to a Flickr account, but that picture is just about all I need. Until I get bored with it.

I like the "Home" and "Friends" pages because it gives me a way of casually stalking my friends without being intrusive. What, you don't do that as well? Again, it's a different way of communicating, and potentially one of the creepier ones.

Anyway, the numbers are probably topping out from the "new friends" list, and while I will probably keep monitoring it, I will concentrate on this blog. So I would say that it is a case of so far, so good.

Oh, and of course while I was working on all this, it comes down that Facebook has unilaterally changed its terms of service, to the tune that ANYTHING posted on the page, regardless of origin, becomes theirs. It sounds like someone was sleeping while the lawyers were making their last presentation to the board. There is a massive push-back at the moment, with people cutting accounts left and right. The brass is assuring that despite this language, they would NEVER use that information for badthings. It's just a legal thing.

Uh-huh.

Here's a little Terms of Service of my own. Feel free to attach it to your facebook notes as well.

"The information within this post, including the content, phrasing, spelling, alphabet letters used, and font choice is the sole ownership of the original poster. Reposting for any reason the original poster does not like (as determined by the original poster) can result in any and all recourse, not limited to Big Louie and Knuckles coming over and having a friendly chat with you in the dead of the night."

Not that I would EVER use this type of unilateral power. It's just a legal thing.

More later,

Update: in the face of a massive user uprising, Facebook has declared it all a misunderstanding, declared they never intended to do what they were doing, and shelved any changes until they decide how to sugarcoat it better. Yeah, the lawyers who pushed this through probably have some 'splaining to do.

Signing - Spy Comics

What I tell you three times is true. This is the first time. I will be making a personal appearance at Spy Comics in Federal Way this coming Saturday, February 21, from 1 to 3. I've written about Spy, which is my local shop. Rick and Paula run the joint, and are good people. They've never done a signing before, so I get to be the guinea pig/test case here. In any event, come and check out the store (1500 South 336th Street, Federal Way)and say hi! More later,

Everyone Says I Love You

So my Encyclopedia of the Saints lists three St. Valentines, but one has a feast day in January so we can dump him right off the bat. Valentine of Rome was supposedly beheaded by Claudius in 269, while Valentine of Tierni was beheaded somewhere in the same temporal neighborhood, during the persecutions of the Emperor Aurellian (who ruled 270-275), indicating that the two may be the same guy. Neither would be particularly pleased to discover that their feast day is embodied by the pagan Greek deity of erotic love and beauty (who, per wikipedia, is either the son of Mars and Venus and known for his pranks and spreading love, or the child of Nyx (night) and Erebus (shadows) and known for his debauchery, or possibly both).

And we wonder why our holidays are so screwed up.

But that's nothing more than an excuse to embed this video of the four Marx Brothers (Groucho, Chico, Harpo, Zeppo) from their movie "Horse Feathers". The reed-thin plot of the movie is that Groucho is head of the college. Zeppo, his son (let us pause for a moment to reflect on the innate weirdness of that statement. OK, moving on), is on the football team, and they recruit icemen Harpo and Zeppo on football scholarships to win the big game. All four brothers romance the "college widow", Thelma Todd, over the course of the movie.

Anyway, each of the brothers in turn perform the song "Everyone Says I Love You", and it tells you about the brothers screen personas. Romantic lead Zeppo gets the straight version of the ballad, undercut by Harpo whistling to his beloved, followed by comical Chico (pronounced Chikk-o) using it to flirt, then a long beautiful harp solo by Harpo (that's what movies need these days - more harp solos). And finally sarcastic Groucho finishes it up with a caustic reflection on romance.

Here, enjoy. And happy Valentine's Day, whoever that is.

More later,

Drachenwurst

Many years ago, I attended a talk by Ursula K. Le Guin, whose work I respect, most of all because Earthsea bucked the trends of what was then traditional fantasy. And in the talk, she refers to the depths (well, I guess, shallows) of current traditional fantasy, in particular that of shared-world, serialized genre fiction. She called it "The Bologna Factory", where each new story is just another slice.

Now, this is MY job description she's talking about, but I take the hit manfully, honestly, and with respect. I am proud of what I have written over the years, but I understand that I am in the depths of genre. One of the reason I LIKE her fantasy is that it rejected genre trends, though I recognize that I myself am part of the genre she has identified and lambasted. And I'm cool with it.

What reminded me of that long-ago statement was THIS article in the Stranger blog, which talks about artwork that is sausage, with a the dead tree text of a book used instead of meat, and the cover transformed into the label. It is, by its own name, Literaturwurst.

Now, I would love to hang a sausage made of the Bruderkrieg hanging in my office, for oh, so many reasons.

More later,

Your Economic Links For The Day

From over at Kobold Quarterly, there has been a wonderful series by Greg Oppedisano and Clinton Boomer on the economics of the typical D&D world.

But wait, you say the economics of the typical D&D world make no sense? Exactly.

Here's Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. Enjoy.

More later,

Update: Annnnnnd..... One More.

Your SF Link For The Day

I know that there is a lot of concern about the future of the printed word in this troubled market. Realms of Fantasy is going by the wayside, and apparently HarperCollins has been forced to lay off Collins.

Things are so dire that we must turn to The New Yorker for our Science Fiction fix.

I know you're expecting a punchline here, but there isn't one. Just go enjoy the story. I thought it was delightful.

More later,

The Roper

A few weeks back my regular Thursday Night D&D Group fought a roper and had a real good time in a very old school style battle. In fact, it was more old school than the old school was.

I should mention our Thursday group – I’ve been a part of it for over ten years now, since moving out here. We are all present or former members of WotC, and more than a few of us date back to employment at TSR. Because of who we are, we’re usually playing stuff that hasn’t seen the light of day yet, and playtested mechanics ranging from Star Wars to D20 Modern to Eberron. Our playing style is pretty relaxed – we kill monsters, tell bad jokes (until the GM reigns us in), and relish a good fight.

Anyway, the roper fight was a small bit within a larger adventure against trolls (we use official adventures because, well, we write them), so this would be a “minor” encounter, an amuse bouche, something to cleanse the palate. The roper was backed up by some trogs, who were keeping at a distance but chucking spears at the party members, sometimes pinning our people to the ground. We triumphed (hey, we’re heroes), but I came away feeling that this felt like a “classic” encounter – very appealing and reminding me of the "good old days" of the game. And I’ve been trying to figure out why.

Part of it is the roper, which is an old familiar monster. The creature didn’t appear in the original little books, but rather in The Strategic Review #2, and has over the years remained pretty stable in concept. It is a dungeon-dweller that looks like a stalagmite, shoots strands out at its enemies that weaken them, and then bites them when they get close. There have been some cosmetic changes -the first illo of one was in the 1E AD&D Monster manual, and it looks blobby but had evolved over time into a more formidable looking rocky form, with a weird side-trip through a Michael Kaluta version that looked like a frozen wave. But the concept was pretty stable, all these years.

But I never liked the roper, either as a DM or player. I don’t think it was what the monster did but as much as the fact that it ran afoul of a lot of what D&D did in that era (this was Greyhawk/Blackmoor pamphlet era) – it moved out into areas that the game didn’t quite cover well, yet.

Part of that was the whole grabbing mechanic – you hit, you’re grabbed, you stay grabbed until you make an open doors roll (that was very OD&D – pressing mechanics from one situation into service for another (not to mention it was a reminder that in the “good old days” we could actually be defeated by a door. Any door.)). And the weakening (originally halving one’s strength, cumulative, per hit) was a pain requiring recalculating to hit bonuses (and penalties) on the fly.

And of course the entire “hit you up to fifty feet away and drag you 10 feet per round” mechanic was a bit of a pain for those of us who were positioning figures in rough approximation, and even an irritant to those of us true gaming grognards that were armed with our tape measures.

Oh, and then there was the Magic Resistance, 80% for the original, which sidelined the wizards. And that was back when we just assumed that this meant that 80% of the time any spell failed, which was later replaced by the official explanation which was 80% against a spellcaster of the same level, which left the whole mechanic a smudgy mess.

The roper was a great monster in concept, but in delivery was a mish-mash of special requirements that the game was not sufficiently developed enough to handle. A lot of corner cases, kludgy rules, and a combat profile that took out both the fighters through ability drain (and a high AC) and wizards with high MR. A monster used once or twice, then abandoned forever with a shudder.

So why was THIS encounter so good? Well, it evoked what the monster was supposed to do without having to deal with all its powers as exceptions. We’re on a grid now, so distances are pretty clear, with all the pull and push and shift mechanics. You get weakened? That’s a status. Here’s what the status does. You want to escape? Here’s the mechanic – same as other escapes. Any hit on the roper’s tendril will cause it to let go, not just X amount of damage (that’s unique to the roper, but it is minor and handled without requiring any additional tracking). All the experimental bits of original roper were handled under a system that fit together well. All the mechanics actually felt like they were part of the same game, and one that moved smoothly, allowing more time for tactics and bad jokes.

Oh, and add that bunch of trogs, highlighting a secondary power of theirs, without even making the DM break a sweat. It was a pretty sweet encounter, and showed that old school sensibilities can be brought into play in a new system.

So yeah, 4E is a worthy component of the continuing evolution of D&D.

More later,

Anniversary

So last night the Lovely Bride and I went out to celebrate our Anniversary. In numbers, we have exceeded the yearly scale that can be found at Wikipedia, but one site I tracked down calls it the "Original Pictures" anniversary. You may take that as you see fit (My first reaction was - watch Star Wars when Han shoots first).

Last year we went to Hawaii for a major number anniversary, and while this year was smaller, it was no less impressive. We went to Canlis for dinner. Now Canlis is the best (and I believe priciest) restaurant in Seattle. It is perched at the south end of the Aurora bridge such that, unless you are looking for it, you shoot right past it heading north. It has a great view out on Gasworks Park and Lake Union. It has a dress code (I know, shock). It is very, very expensive.

And it is worth it. The Lovely Bride and I took the tasting menu, which I have recommended before in these pages. The tasting menu is an ever-changing selection of many smaller courses, each one paired with a suitable wine. I like it because it gets me out of my comfort zone into foods and preparations that I would otherwise shy away from.

Last night we started with steelhead roe served on a smoked potato panna cotta and baked potato gélee. Now as an appetizer this might send one back to safer choices (a smoked potato panna cotta? What the heck is that? Very delicious, is the answer). A yellow fin tuna, with satsuma mandarins, fennel and taggiasca olives. A dorade (its a fish - I didn't know), served with sunchokes, bouillabaisse and chorizo (and tapioca pearls). A beef tenderloin with truffles, the beef cooked in the sous vide style (meaning the meat appeared rare but tasted medium, and melted in the mouth), a chaser of a fromage blanc sorbet before finishing with milk chocolate mousse, espresso caramel and mascarpone sorbet.

This is serious food, to be savored, not shoveled. Small portions that inspire small bites. Excellent presentation. Food as art form, to be appreciated. You shouldn't barrel through the Louvre (though there are those that do), and this is a meal that you linger over. The pacing from the staff is perfectly meshed, so the wine pairings, the courses, and the clearing all moved with a sense of sorcerous mystery.

And yes, the wine pairings. The idea that wine goes with food is a bit of a mystery to many of us, and indeed, I am often drinking what is available/what the Lovely Bride ordered. But this meal makes the case that wine pairings are not an urban legend. The wines matched each course perfectly. And yeah, the sommelier's task is made tougher by the fact that the Lovely Bride's allergies forced a substitution on the desert course, and getting a wine to pair with grapefruit sorbet is a challenge (On the other hand, I had tawny port for the first time last night. Hmmmmm port...)

The end result was a perfect evening that completely worked, melting away a stressful day and creating a perfect evening. The morning, after all the variety of wines, both LB and I are paying a bit of the price. But like the meal itself, it was worth it.

More later,

Election Results

So the numbers poured in soon after the non-polls officially closed, and the post-marked ballots still coming in are nudging the results only slightly. With currently about 20% of the eligible voters casting votes, the clear winner is Sherril Huff, the incumbent, with strong plurality (45% of the vote) among the six candidates, and more than the second and third place candidates (Irons and Roach) combined. It is a pretty strong statement the folk think you're doing an OK job.

A nice touch was that political neophyte Bill Anderson, who was the sort of candidate this type of election was supposed to attract, got a good showing at fourth with 8% of the vote, ahead of the former director of elections, and the guy who called everybody else a bunch of crooks.

So its a test run, and nothing seems to have blown up. I'm still going to miss going to the polls.

More later.

American Pie

Fifty years ago this morning, Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and JP Richardson, better known as “The Big Bopper” bundled into a chartered single-engine plane and flew into eternity. Their plane crashed five minutes after takeoff due to pilot error and horrible weather. All were slain in the crash.

The tragedy left a gaping wound in American Music at a critical time. Ten-plus years after the event, Don McLean wrote about it in one of the classic songs of my generation – “American Pie”. I loved this song and empathized with it as a young teen, and much of what I saw around myself in the early 70s seemed to echo his words. Heck, I even named my first D&D city after it.

But now, years later, I have to admit that the song was not about what I thought it was. It was not about the battle of the sixties, about the loss of JFK and RFK, about Kent State and Vietnam and civil rights. Instead, it was about a generational change in popular music in the late 50s/early 60s, and how McLean , who would these days be stacked near the folk-rock end of the spectrum, didn’t like it one bit.

It is, in effect, McLean was telling people to get off his lawn.

People pore over the lyrics looking for deeper meaning, and part of its longstanding popularity is that his words express themselves in unlooked-for ways. Yet it is to my surprise that I am standing with the “bad guys” that McLean is opining about. I'm standing with the good guys, too, because it was a musical divide that I was not aware of.

The good guys (in the song) were Buddy, Ritchie, the Bopper, and Dylan (the jester). The bad guys are the Beatles (the sergeants played a marching tune), the Byrds (eight miles high) and the Stones (Jagger = Satan laughing with delight?). I loved what we now early rock, and was a big Arlo Guthrie fan. But I also loved the Beatles, Stones, and what we call “classic rock” in these lesser days.

I also realize now that both groups played out this part of the story before I had my musical tastes fully downloaded. I was a toddler when that plane went down. I was 12 in the year of Woodstock and Altamont. If McLean was bemoaning the fall of American music since the passing of three important icons, how would he feel about its stunned-falcon plummet of later decades. His song belongs to a generation that felt betrayed when Dylan went electric. It's important, but to evoke Dylan, that ain’t me, babe.

And part of what bothers me about such nostalgia is that artists evolve. The loss of Holly and the others have frozen them in time, their music in amber. The tragedy is not just that their voices were silenced, but their potential was cut short. McLean seems to feel that, had the three men he admired most not passed into the west from the Grey Havens, they would continue to produce the same danceable folk rock. I’d like to imagine that other, alternate world, where Buddy Holly wrote the “Dukes of Hazzard” theme song (performed by Waylon Jennings, who missed that fateful flight) and the Big Bopper delivered the baseline for a rap version of Chantilly Lace.

More later,

Election Central

This is a message to inhabitants of King County, in the state of Washington. The rest of you, go over and read Sinfest, which panel-for-panel is funnier than anything you'll find in the Seattle Times.

OK, Kingsters, here's the deal: Today is election day. I don't want to hear you kvetch about it, you brought this one upon yourselves. So we're electing a Director of Elections (yeah, its called irony), and we're doing it in a vote by mail.

Here's what you need to do. Go dig out that mail-in ballot you got a while back. It's by the front door, in the pile of mail that contains those late Christmas Cards and unopened bank balance statements. Go get it, I'll wait.

Back? OK. Now take a bloody pen and vote. One vote. That's it. Fold it up. Put it in the security envelope. Put the security envelope in the regular envelope (Democracy - some assembly required). Sign and date the outer envelope. Seal the security flaps. Then either slap a stamp on it and mail the dratted thing, or drop it off at one of ten locations in the county. If it is posted today, it counts.

Got it? Good. Oh, OK, recommendations. If you take recommendations from bloggers (a dicey proposition at best), I would say Sherril Huff is doing the job well and deserves to keep it. Just about everybody else who has actual throw weight (Times, P-I, Stranger agrees. The rest of the pack, with the exception of newcomer Bill Anderson (who actually is running on qualifications, such a novel idea) have so much political baggage they would be charged extra to get on the plane.

This ain't jury duty, but it is a civil obligation. You guys wanted to vote - now go vote.

More later,

Are You Ready To Roomba?

We have a new member of the household - small, red, noisy, and random its movements. Oddly, it is not a child, but rather one of those robot vacuum cleaners. Looking like a small footstool, it coasts randomly around the room, cleaning as it goes. Its predecessor was the “Mouse droid” from Star Wars, and I can only assume that if a Wookiee growls at it, it will run away.

One of my co-workers is moving to heavier carpeting in his house and wanted to get rid of his roomba, which was about three or four years old and picked up at a discount anyway. We had long ago moved back to hardwood floors , and I said yeah, I’d be glad to take it, if the Lovely Bride and the cats could put up with it.

The LB loves the idea of anything that will vacuum so she doesn’t have to, be it a smaller disk-shaped dalek or her understanding mate. There is a problem, though - Our architecture in the house is fairly open, so she has been setting up barriers at the doorways to keep it in the kitchen, or the dining room, or whatever. Since I walk through those rooms, sometimes without turning on lights, I can predict this new behavior will end in tears. This is a Dick Van Dyke show opening credits sequence just waiting to happen.

The cats have yet to determine if the rolling disk is predator or prey, and have by turns hunted it, then, when it turns and charges them, fleeing in terror. They have taken to following it and watching it from the high ground, like Comanches watching a cavalry detachment from the canyon walls, planning an eventual ambush.

As for me, I find it noisy and underfoot. It has decided the perfect place to power down is right under my chair at the dinner table, so I have tripped over it once alrady. I think the next generation of this things should be made of kickable plastic. Or at least it should run away when I growl at it.

More later,

XLIII, Um, Also

In well over a thousand posts here, I have never been as tempted to retract an entry as I am for the one just down the page, in which I intimated that this year's Super Bowl would be a slaughter and, as so many before them, a snooze.

Instead, it proved to be the most watchable game I've seen in years, from start to finish. And this is the Super Bowl, mind you, where usually the results are obvious before the end of the first quarter and those of you with picture-in-picture channel surf during the game, coming back only for the commercials (if that).

All my hopes and fears about the Steelers, emotions I thought in abeyance, came back in full force as I watched them dominate in the first quarter and completely evaporate in the early fourth. The great moves were there, in amazing play after amazing play on both sides, along with the amazing bonehead move (Ah - the Steeler center is named Justin Hartwig, though he probably would have had to change his name after that holding penalty in the end zone that gave Arizona the safety.

Even the halftime show of Bruce Springsteen and the Half-of-Jersey band was brilliant, as if the NFL has once and for all shaken the curse of the obviously-sucky-half-time-show.

Oh, and the commercials? A lot of people got pushed in front of buses this year. The Budweiser Clydesdales should get their own show on NBC, and Pepsi will never be the choice of a new generation if they keep insisting on claiming that it was the choice of every previous generation. Just saying. There were even movies I will want to watch this year. Oh, and the worst of the lot was a tie between the GoDaddy hey-we're-still-around commercials and the Cash4Gold people who reminded us that MCHammer was still alive.

Though I liked the Ivar's commercial on the local. So, why a duck?

The game was officiated well, if a little over-officiated, but some of those calls you just have to make (come on, punching out an opponent?). Yeah, I can't argue with the calls (OK, there was that one Arizona TD, but...)

More later,

Comics: DC’s Finals Days

Ever stand outside an art cinema where some foreign film is being played? And there are people coming out who are excited about what they just saw, really charged up by the raw artistic brilliance. And there are people with these stunned looks on their faces, like they have been intellectually mugged and are not quite sure what they should do about it?

That seems to be the reaction to DC’s big event, Final Crisis, which finally wrapped up last week, but apparently has some straggling pieces coming along later. You either got it and enjoyed it, or you feel like you’ve been hit with a two-by-four.

Put me in the two-by-four group. Stuff HAPPENS and things RESOLVE but I’m quite sure about all the hows and whys. Given that much of this particular issue is told second-hand after the event by various narrators, all with the same voice, contributes. As does the fact that it deals with the multiple earths of the DC universe as well as time travel, two concepts to make even the hardiest brains ache. And that the ultimate bad guy is not the ultimate bad guy as promised early in the book, but ANOTHER ultimate bad guy that was over in another book.

And the resolutions, for a universe-shaking epic, are also strange. So is Batman dead here, or dead in his own series, which was titled “Batman RIP”, or is he still alive as some eternal entity and if so, on which earth? And are the Hawks (Hawkman and Hawkgirl) dead? Why not the Atoms (original Palmer and new guy Choi), who seemed to be in a much more dire situation? Is the Barry Allen Flash back, and if so, what about the Wally West Flash, one of the few real superhero replacement successes? At least they brought back Captain Carrot and the Zoo Crew into the continuity. And what about the (New) New Gods? Does that have meaning for anyone who didn’t follow the Kirby DC comics in the early 70s?

I think that may be ultimately the problem – so much of this pulls from that part of a golden age – new gods and Kamandi and Anthro and all that, which requires previous knowledge, but then that knowledge is not particularly clove to tightly, with the result that it is impenetrable to the newcomer and confusing the old guy.

And if there’s a metastatement about comics, I’m a bit lost, and I really like this kind of stuff. Are the Monitors (watching from above the worlds) comic fans? Comic creators? Fallen angels? Is Life diagram against Anti-Life equation about creativity against conformity? Imagination against science? Realism against wonder? Art against words?

I dunno. It used to be that after the movie, you could hang out at the local coffee shop and listen to the one guy who gets it try to explain it to his friends, or watch the stresses of couples where she is explaining the symbolism of the white daffodils while he is just shaking his head. And you’re seeing it instead in the blogosphere. Oh joy.

Here’s where I, monitor of my own universe, pass judgment – DC needs to take a break from this sort of crisis for a good year or more. Figure out how their universe/multiverse/omniverse really works. Decide if their stories are on New Earth or Earth-0 or Earth-1 or whatever. Who their characters are. Their original Crisis on Infinite Earths closed the door on the Silver Age, but I don’t know what this does, for the continuity or the characters or the company itself. And once they have figured all that out, move forward from there.

More later,

A Most Difficult Quiz

From the fevered mind of Brother Magneto, a nerd-based quiz that I did NOT do incredibly well on:

Congrats! You're about 52% knowledgable of fantasy worlds and/or London Tube stations.

 

Congrats, you're either fairly well-read in your fantasy or you have a better than average knowledge of London. Either way, these skills will come in handy for you someday as a London cabbie or a panelist at GenCon.

London Underground Station or Fictional Fantasy Location?
Take More Quizzes

XLIII

Obligatory Super Bowl post.

I'll keep it short, mainly because I haven't caught much of the buzz and none of the hooplah. Part of it is because our local media is in such an uproar, but also because I haven't felt much of a media through-line, a moral story that makes this game the ultimate justification of whatever needs to be justified. There doesn't even seem to be a strong us-versus-them line of that-which-makes Pittsburgh mighty versus whatever-it-is-that-makes Phoenix great.

Snow versus sun? Steelworkers versus retirees? Some great player's final hurrah? It just doesn't have the natural dualism that previous games seem to have had. There just is a shrug and a feeling that the Cardinals meeting the Steelers are like those turkeys meeting the shredder in that Sarah Palin video. And watching the commercials will have that tinge of 'So THIS is what they laid five hundred people off for'.

In Seattle, I am getting the whiff of sour grapes - heck, its a spoiled vineyard out here. We should have been at the top of our no-challenge division, but managed to lose to the Cards and destroy the whole Super Bowl as Holgren's last hurrah line that the media would have loved. And Seattle is just a tad bitter that whenever the national media talks about the Steelers, it is always in terms of "The Steelers, who have not been to a Super Bowl since they kicked the Seahawks to the curb, ate their lunch, and gave them a collective wedgie." So yeah, there's a little bitterness here.

I'm a native of the 'Burgh from before they started calling it "the 'Burgh". I'll root for the hometown team, but I haven't been there for them the most of the season. I don't know the center's name (yeah, most Steeler fans do. Most Steeler fans know the center's mother's maiden name). I fear I in this battle I am a sunshine Steeler, a summer soldier, a good-time fan, my terrible towel somewhere in with the napkins and the silverware. I expect a quiet Super Bowl, with an unexpected Steeler win.

Now watch the sports gods prove me wrong.

More later,

The Paper Chase

About a week ago, the Lovely Bride brought home a copy of the local Seattle Post-Intelligencer, and I was struck by how much it reminded me of the newspapers I have grown up with. Mostly B/W, lot of pages, lot of ads, multiple sections and inserts. There was even a political cartoon and letters to the editor on the editorial page.

Two things amazed me. One was how pared down my regular daily, the Seattle Times had become. The other was the realization that the heavier, meatier paper, the P-I, was the one that was going out of business and may be history by March.

It is kind of a weird feeling. It is like having two older uncles, both of whom are getting up there in years. One has a terminal diagnosis but seems hell-bent on living his life as he has lived it up to the last possible moment - that's the P-I. The other has gone on a strict regimen, has dropped weight to the point that he is a mere shadow of his former self, seems determined to press on, yet is continually surrounded by nebulous rumors that he too is not long for this world, and when the end comes it will be with suddenness that will surprise everyone.

The rumors are that the Times is about to seek bankruptcy protection. That they are trying to sell a lot of useful real estate is a cruddy market. That there is a hang-up in their unloading of some newspapers in Maine (the Seattle media always calls them "the newspapers in Maine", when they really should be called "The largest newspapers in Maine"). Meanwhile, they have continued to revise and experiment with what they are putting in the paper, cutting down their diet, using more color, referring more to the web, running thinner editions with more items per page (and with that, fewer ads). They even, upon outcry, brought back the NYTimes crossword (since a crossword is one of those places where newsprint is superior to pixels) and restored the comic "Candorville" (though at the price of smothering "Lola" with a pillow in the middle of the night and burying her in the online editions).

But it remains a weird time for print media in general. Even if the Times does declare bankruptcy, it would put it in company with a number of media giants like Chicago's Tribune Company. And I mention the Tribune because all the pieces of the Tribune organization seem to be making money, they just can't handle the debt load of all their acquisitions they have made. And in the end that may be the greatest sins of all these companies - not that they are losing money, but rather bought some big vacation homes and suddenly are having trouble with the mortgages.

And as long as I am beating the relative analogy to death, there are the two weird cousins, the Seattle weekly newspapers. Since it was swallowed by Village Voice Media (despite its illustrious name a Potemkin village for a more conservative chain out of Arizona), the Seattle Weekly has suddenly gone from swaggering political reporting to gingerly avoiding such sensitive subjects, like the cousin whose new spouse does not appreciate such outspoken antics. Despite this, they still manage a good, solid article every blue moon, like this one which provides a good history of our senior senator, while performing the double backflip of simultaneously congratulating and chastising her for bringing more federal money into the state.

And the Stranger shows up in this journal more often, and has been that skate punk cousin that suddenly turns out to be surprisingly knowledgeable about how local government functions. I've talked about them before, and one of their strong points is their online presence, which provides rapid but often extremely localized reporting (Shooting in Belletown? All over it. Floods in Lewis County? Not so much).

In fact online may be the final resting place of read local news. Most of the old hipsters of the Weekly, the ones that refer to the Boeing crash of the 70's as 'the good old days', have ended up at Crosscut, which is seeking a working model for financing. And a new entry is Publicola, which is already reporting inside conflicts and intraparty brawls from Olympia, something that has been missing for a while in more traditional venues. So I suppose there is still hope.

As for me, I'm kinda hoping Seattle's sports teams improve, since watching the media seems to have replaced watching the Mariners limp along and hoping that Oklahoma City's new NBA team continues to suck rocks.

More later,

The Twenty-Five Things

Well, T'Ed Stark inflicted this double-dog-dare on me over in Facebook, so here goes -twenty-five things you may not know about me.

Jeff Grubb ...

1. ... was once stepped on by a bear while he was sleeping. While Jeff was sleeping, not the bear.
2. ... reads odd dictionaries and encyclopedias
3. ... likes working with people younger than himself. Which is nice because he has less and less choice in the matter as time goes on.
4. ... thinks the best deep-dish pizza on the planet comes from the Original Chicago Pizza place in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, across from the Post Office.
5. ... has insomnia about one night every three months or so, and uses it as a chance to watch the sun come up.
6. ... rates drinking hot tea while watching the sun set at Crater Lake among his perfect moments in life.
7. ... has a false front tooth from being hit in the face with a hardhat at a caving expedition (Famous last words - "Throw that thing up here, willya?")
8. ... has stood on the shores of an ocean not on any American maps.
9. ... can't sleep on airplanes.
10. ... misses Brian Thomsen.
11. ... stays until the end of the credits of movies.
12. ... named his first D&D city "American Pie".
13. ... voted Republican in his first presidential contest.
14. ... still thinks "The Purdue Exponent" is a great name for the school newspaper for an engineering school.
15. ... is starting to wonder why he keeps all those back issues of National Geographic.
16. ... would have called his private design label, corporation, or band "Rock Wallaby".
17. ... still loves "Amazing Grace" even after that Star Trek movie reduced it to cliche.
18. ... is really excited about his current projects.
19. ... enjoys Lovecraft, hates horror movies. Go figure.
20. ... remains a fan of John Denver.
21. ... is an Eagle Scout (bronze palm).
22. ... has restless brain syndrome. Don't bother looking it up, it's a new thing.
23. ... has used "The Dick Van Dyke Show" as a guide to life. It's been pretty successful.
24. ... believes more in the afterlife the closer he gets to it.
25. ... has decided he needs a FAQ

And I refuse to tag anyone else on this one, but you if you want to play, go nuts.

More later,

Play: Out/Inside Looking In/Outside

The Road to Mecca by Athol Fugard, Directed by Leigh Silverman, 15 Jan to 14 Feb 2009, Seattle Repertory Theater

This is a tough review to write, because I don't want to scare you off, nor do I raise your expectations to the point that no amount of mere mortal theater will slake your thirst. But ...

The Road to Mecca is an excellent play, well-written and beautifully acted and staged, and well-worth hieing yourself hence to go see it (scared you off, yet?).

The play is based on the true story of Helen Martins, an outsider artist who transformed her home in South Africa into the "Owl House", which now, years after her death, is a pilgrimage site for those who embrace folk art (but during her life was considered that eyesore built by that crazy lady).

But saying the play is based on her story is sort of like saying "Mutiny on the Bounty" is based on a trip to Tahiti. Yeah, it catches the basic notes (and gives the play its "hook" for the liner notes and people asking "So, what is the play about?") but the play is about a lot more than that.

Here's the play version - Miss Helen (Dee Masske) is the elderly woman who, since the death of her husband, has been transforming her house into her own folk art regime, her lawn filled with concrete statues facing towards Mecca, and her interior festooned with candles and mirrors. She is being pressured by Father Marius (Terry Edward Moore), of the very Calvinist (Dutch Reformed) local congregation, to check into the church's home for the aged and leave behind her work. In response to a panicked letter from Helen, an old friend (who is a much-younger schoolteacher), Elsa (Marya Sea Kaminski) drives the ten hours to Helen's home is middle of nowhere, South Africa, to provide moral support.

That's the gist, but there's a lot more going on. Helen is both more vulnerable and more strong-willed than she first appears. Marius is not quite the villain he is made out to be, and Elsa carries a lot more baggage with her than her own overnight bag. Secrets revealed, deeper truths uncovered, and a resolution, of sorts, is reached that leaves a new equilibrium.

And the actors are marvelous. Marya Sea Kaminski was brilliant in My Name is Rachel Corrie and is completely fantastic here without evoking that earlier role, building Elsa from the ground up as a fully-rounded persona. Dee Maaske as Helen keeps up with her, by turns helpful and helpless, sharp-tongued and soft, comic and stern. She's just great. And Terry Edward Moore as Marius captures that stiff spine of Calvinistic caring that I both recognize and empathize with. All three are beautiful in their work. Master craftsmen working with the best materials.

And here's the bit where their ability is truly on display - the play itself has long, long speeches about responsibility and art and darkness and and mortality and love and trust and other deep matters. Not only do each of the actors hold the stage for their parts, but the other two actors are there supporting, wordlessly, what is going on. I know that sounds like a small bit, but their engagement is the cue for our engagement with what is going on (which is why I may have such problems with Edward Albee plays - they always seem like the characters are just waiting for whoever is talking to finish up so they get on with their say).

As a warning, I'll tell you that the performance takes few prisoners with its authentic accents. Kaminiski plays a sharp Brit talking a kilometer a minute, such that you're sometimes playing mental catchup. Maaske is blessedly softer, but her Afrikaner burr is there, blurring and shaping the words and hiding as much as they reveal. And Moore is Dutch enough to be on an Old Masters cigar box, and pulls it off as native.

And usually, when there are unfamiliar words to the audience (for example the word Dominee - the minister of the DR Church), there's usually a hint of stress to favor the audience. As in "here, this is a word you may not know about, though it is in you program book". Not so here - they go barreling through and expect you keep up. And what they're doing, what saying, is important and interesting enough that you DO keep up. You feel the auditory software in you brain get rewired as you come to understand each character in turn.

As for the set design, it was good, though I realized they could have managed with only a blank stage and sea of candles. You never see the sculptures outside (nor should you), and the interior feels almost a little subdued. The interior exists, save in one important culmination of the play, just to stay out of the way of the play itself. For all the hook of folk art and strangeness, it does its job by letting the actors and the words do theirs.

It is a very good play, and touched me deeply with what it is saying about art and darkness, subjects close to my heart. So go see it, and don't be scared off by the praise.

More later,

Howyadoin?

Pretty much OK. Thanks for asking.

Quick summary of the week - Monday AM was the vertigo attack, which meant that Monday and most of Tuesday were spent asleep from exhaustion and a massive valium hit. Wednesday I went to work - the Lovely Bride driving since was still on medication. The LB takes those warnings about operating heavy equipment very seriously, and I doubt I could convince her to let me operate a blender, much less a vehicle, while on drugs.

Anyway, Wednesday was important since one of our design groups was grinding its gears without me, and ended up in a three-hour meeting that was (surprise) incredibly constructive. Gave me enough to work of for a Work-At-Home day on Thursday (another LB trait - if I claim I am working at home, she expects me to be, well, working - cruel taskmistress that she is). Friday went in as well, still on anti-nauseas and vals, but was rewarded by seeing some of the very cool stuff the group is putting together.

In general, it has been a very productive week, given all the weirdness involved. Today I was finally trusted enough to drive out and get comics, so I've been taking it easy reading comics and watching curling on the CBC. Slowly weaning myself off the drugs, and so far, except for that weird feeling where you turn your head and it takes a few seconds for you mind to catch up, things have been doing pretty well.

Oh, and my ears have been cracking. Nothing major, but just continual pressure-pops along the ear canals.

Anyway, I've missed a few big things and some small stuff, we'll see where we go from here. I am better but not 100%. Today is officially a bumming around and healing day, and I will leave it at that.

More later,

The Viaduct Monologues

I think I mentioned that I’ve mellowed on the Seattle Viaduct. Yeah, the relic of the 50s has to be replaced, if for no other reason than a portion may come down in a heavy shake, but I have a hard time rustling up the venom against it. I don’t think its particularly ugly, nor does it block much of the waterfront (the hills rise right behind it). In its time, Seattle has moved from a working waterfront in that patch to more of a tourists digs - aquarium, restaurants, nice shops, and the parking beneath the viaduct made those locations more accessible.

So it was a shrug and a nod that I heard that the various ideas being pitched were reduced to two – a surface street option and new elevated structure. Either one works, but they do two different things, and that’s what the battle has really been about.

The surface street option is all about moving traffic inside the city. A lot of intersections, a lot of choices, but not a lot of speed. Mind you, I’ve driven through downtown Seattle, particularly when my goal is the Seattle Center and the Mercer Mess has I-5 tied up in knots. And while the lights are nicely timed, the continual traffic from all sides (people turning off side streets, street parking, pedestrians, driveways, all manner of drop-offs and pick-ups) makes the experience a cross between a highway safety film and the car chase from Bullitt.

The elevated idea is all getting traffic PAST Seattle. The city itself is located on a thin neck of land between Lake Washington and the Sound, and the two main thoroughfares through are SR-99 (The viaduct) and I-90 (which for reasons known but to the gods goes from 5 lanes to 1 ½ at one point). If I’m going north of the city, I’d prefer to use the viaduct as opposed to slogging through the street grid.

So suddenly the city, county, and state have announced a compromise – a tunnel. Whathehey? How is a tunnel a compromise between a street and an elevated? Well, it’s a compromise in that it does both things. The viaduct is replaced with the surface street option, while the tunnel takes the traffic intended to go THROUGH the city and pitching it cleanly out the other side. So the plan is really doing both.

And the current design answers my main concern about a waterfront tunnel (namely, that the land there is mostly fill to begin with, and any shake good enough to bring down the present viaduct would play hobbs with an underground. The tunnel concept sweeps inward to (slightly) more stable soil.

And it is not like we should be allergic to tunnels – we punched one through for the Light Rail System without a lot of hand-wringing or supplemental damage. Though I am leery of the idea that a tunnel should be easier since tunnel tech has improved in the ten years they’ve been arguing about it. With that logic, we should argue about viaduct replacement for another ten, because by that time the stargate tech should be coming on line (And here’s my thought on that – not going to happen).

No, the final argument will be the price, and while they’ve already got some funding lined up and good arguments for public works projects to patch the economy, I’m a little unclear on the idea of who’s going to pay for the durned thing. Seattlites will balk because the line will go through Seattle without even touching the sides. King County and State folk might bridle at the idea of funding a excavation with no immediate use for clearing THEIR streets. And tolls? Well, that may be a good, solid idea, but might shift some of your traffic right back onto the I-90 that is overloaded.

As for me? I’m back to being a bit mixed about the whole thing. A tunnel sounds like an awful lot of cash at a time when we’re trying to keep schools open, but something’s gotta happen before viaduct itself comes down and forces our hands. I’m dubious about the rah-rah state of the times in supporting it, and similarly doubtful about the claims from the anti-camp. So color me mixed, but I know I’m going to miss the old girl when they finally take her down.

More later,

DOW breaks 8,000!

What, you think I'd pass on this just because the New Guy just took on the job? Consider this the baseline, the initial determination, the chalk-mark in the tires of the economy, to see how (and if) it moves.

More later,

I-day: The New Era

I'm feeling pretty good, but I'm not sure if that's as much from the Valium as the fact that we have a new leader for our country. I still want to call Mr. Obama "The Kid" if only because he is younger than I am, but out of deference for the office, I will settle for "The New Guy". In previous years I could usually be cajoled into trusting the man in charge because he is older and therefore wiser than us whipper-snappers, but the New Guy seems to have the answers and the attitude going forward, so I'm good for it.

And he will have his hands full. Let others dictate the depth of the mess we're currently in, I think that most Americans just want someone to fix it. I disagree with the idea of full forgiveness, of not going after the thieves and bozos responsible, though. If something was illegal on 3 November it is just as illegal on 21 January. Indeed, I think that not going after the problem children of the first Bush administration paved the way for their reappearance under the second. But then, I am a vengeful and petty god, and no amount of Valium is going to change that.

And the new guy will have plethora of his own bad choices, mistakes, and poor policies, though hopefully not in the droves we have seen in the past eight years. And while our media will get the vapors over any criminality, perceived or real, they will have a bit of a climb to better the travails of the previous administration. Things to consider before rushing breathlessly to air some new scandal:

Does this particular odious policy equal that of sending us to war on ginned up data?

Does this disastrous decision equal that of letting an American city drown?

Does this particular personal failing equal shooting a 79-year old man in the face with a shotgun?

Let's admit it, there is a high bar set by the New Guy's predecessors. And with it a new level of attention. I expect there to be a sudden concern when the undersecretary of labor is revealed to have pulled the tags off her mattress, or when some aid wrote in the box marked "Do not write in this box" the words "OK".

And that's fair, in that we were asking for better attention by the media than we got for eight years. But I'll be asking the previous questions when the media tries to get me to share their indignation. I fully expect the talking heads to be shocked, simply shocked, to discover that politics would be occurring in government buildings.

As for the speech itself, I missed the bulk of it, driving down to a follow-up appointment with my GP, but there was one line that stuck in a inauguration speech filled with choice bits. Here's the phrase, echoing Franklin:

"As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals."

Rejecting false choices, indeed. It should be strong and interesting four years ahead.

More later,

Update; Curmudgeon I may be, but THIS made me laugh out loud.

Vertigo ...

... And not the cool Alfred Hitchcock kind.

One nice thing about the blog is the sense of continuity. Back here I talk about a bout with an inner ear infection that left me incapacitated and heaving my guts out. That's about three and a half years ago.

Well, its back, though not with a vengeance, though mainly because I know what to expect this time, so I'm not dealing from ignorance.

Last night I was sleeping badly, rolled over my side, and was suddenly hit by both dizziness and a nasty feeling of deja vu. That was about 3 AM. The heaves set in quickly (we had Spanacopita (spinich pie) the previous evening for dinner, so I will spare you the gruesome details). By 4:30, and we were at the ER (the Lovely Bride driving, my eyes screwed tight to avoid watching the world around me).

Staff was polite and efficient, though I was parked on a gurney in the hallway (and here I thought that 4:30 AM would be a down time for the hospital). Toughest thing was for me to relax and trust them, a fact made easier after they were very nice and set up the valium drip. They did some basic tests and concurred with the diagnosis from years previous (The resident,a young man who gave me a "Scrubs" flashback, described being hit with is as "bad luck", indicating it is not punishment for my sinful ways, which I liked). Valium and something to calm my seething stomach, a referral for an EENT specialist, an appointment with my local GP, and I'm back home, and have spent the rest of the day sleeping in the waterbed with the cats camped out nearby, who are wondering if they can eat me if worse comes to worse.

The good news is that the Lovely Bride has been here to handle all the tough stuff (paperwork, prescriptions, etc...), and that this time I have a day job that provides health benefits. The bad news is that I really had things to finish today (though the good news is that my coworkers are smart enough to wrap them up without me). So I'm good.

And of course, I am writing this under the influence of drugs, and have the attention span of a flea, so I apologize if most of the words are spelled correctly this time.

More later,

The Election Election

I don't know about you, but I'm a little burned out on politics. Not a surprise, after a bruising political season just past. Yet here we go again, with ANOTHER election here in King County. You've probably got your voters guide (A slender thing about the thickness of a Seattle Weekly) and your ballots.

And there is only one major topic on the agenda - electing the new King County Director of Elections.

Now, readers will know that this blog felt that making Director of Elections an elected post was a stupid idea, and making it a "non-political post" was even stupider. But, vox populi and all that, so let's see what the people have wrought. The Renton Reporter, of all people, gives a good summary of those involved.

The best of the bunch is Sherril Huff, who a)gets an outstanding rating from the Municipal League, b) currently has the job, c) has got us through the most recent monster election without any major suits, and d) has the support of the local Dems. No problem, right?

Well, there is also e) she didn't live in King County while she was doing the job. She's moved to King County since, and while I am usually really nasty about folks moving into an area just to run for office, this is a case where Huff had to re-apply for the job she already has, and they've changed the requirements, so I'm a little forgiving on this one.

Oh, and here's a spoiler - I think you should vote for Sherril Huff. Just getting that out of the way.

Also "outstanding" according to the Muni league is David Irons, who ran for King County Exec against Ron Sims back in 2005. He's one of two recognized Republican candidates for this operation, and has name recognition. Problem, is, some of that name recognition is from a nasty family dust up, so caveat emptor.

The other notable Republican who is running is Pam Roach, who is "a character" to judge from her various campaigns and offices. She also has a blog, which, speaking from experience, is one of the best ways of cheesing off large numbers of people in a single quote (Here's a random pullquote talking about the decreasing number of reporters in Olympia - "For a conservative it just means fewer bullets. However, they will be higher caliber."). While I would admit she'd be the best choice for sheer entertainment value, she only gets a Adequate rating from the Muni League.

The Muni League's ratings in this race, by the way, are Outstanding, Very Good, and Adequate. Huff and Irons were at Outstanding. At the Very Good status is Bill Anderson, banking executive and software engineer. Downside, he has no political experience. Upside, until this election, neither did this job until this year. He running on the knowledge if not the exact credentials, and to honest, he'd be my second choice. Here's his site (but Bill, Bill, Bill! Don't have your video start up on opening. And you're looping it! Arrgh!)

Back down at the Adequate level is Julie Anne Kempf, who WAS King County elections director until being fired in a scandal in 2002. Which sort of set up the entire mess we're in right now. Then there was some additional extracurricular activity which led to an arrest. Problem is, some people are hearing about Kempf (former director) and ascribing it to Huff (current director), so the confusions is getting thick out here.

And adding to the confusion is Chris Clifford (Adequate rating from the Muni League), who is also filing suit to bounce Huff out for not living in King County, despite himself having a gig with a San Diego planning group without living, you know, in San Diego.

Clifford also gives us the quote of the election, in his Voter's Pamphlet entry: "There are actions I believe are unworthy of your vote. Filing a false declaration, lying about where you live, being accursed of assaulting your mother, being arrested for forgery, and being arrested for attempt to over a police officer".

Yes, the second line is a second fragment (He's a teacher), but more importantly it is a "Where's Waldo" of accusations against the other candidates (Note - not any single candidate is responsible for all of these accusations, but fitting which one to which took me the better part of an afternoon, and I still don't know who the forger is supposed to be).

But it does sum up my feeling on this election - it has not brought out the best and the brightest, but rather a collection of usual suspects, and will do little for improving the office of Director. At best, right now, I am looking to mitigate the damage. Go for Huff.

More later,

The Woodpecker Papers

It has been almost a month since the woodpecker started attacking the power pole across the street, and I thought I'd update the damages.

The culprit, a pileated variety of feathered malefactor, has tunneled four holes into the pole so far, none of them more than six feet off the ground. They are:

- 3" long by 2" wide by 1" deep
- 4" long by 3" wide by 3" deep
- 15" long by 3" wide by 4" deep
And a record scar of 26" long by 4" by 9" deep at the deepest.

The two largest cuts are across from each other, so our feathered saboteur is definitely working towards a goal. So far, I doubt the pole is coming down, but its not in the shape it was a month ago.

There is currently a small red ribbon tied around the pole, but I believe this to be the result of a local surveying crew as opposed to an intention to replace it. As the development wave sweeps through, they are planning to extend the sewer line down the street (which they just repaved and expanded a couple years back - go figure).

More later,

Last Bus to Arkham

Tour de Lovecraft: The Tales by Ken Hite, Atomic Overmind Press, 2008

Provenance (or how I ended up reading this): I purchased this book at The Dreaming, up in the U-District, despite having read the first draft of its contents on the net. This is a blook (a word that will soon go into the annals of "words we don't want to use anymore") - a series of blog posts that evolve into a final edition. Ken Hite, on his regular site, took everyone on a guided tour of HPLovecraft's 51 stories, and this is the result.

And to be frank, the book's net origins show - the pieces are individually good but strain to hold together into a larger skein, though his final two paragraphs are worth the price of admission. It's a book worth having in a no-virtual form.

I've seen this book touted as a good beginners' guide, and I have to disagree. Hite does not summarize the tales here, and in fact assumes that you not only know Lovecraft's work, but the predecessors he is seeking to emulate (Machen, Poe, and Dunsany) and the literary critics and editors that followed in his wake (ST Joshi, Robert Price, Lin Carter, and of course Augie Derelith). Seriously, if you don't know what Lin Carter did to deserve the bashing he gets, you'd assume that he backed over Lovecraft's dog or something (which is kinda true, in a literary sense, but never mind that).

Because it is an assemblage of earlier smaller articles, so there is a bit of repeating and recapitulation. In particular, this involved Lovecraft's inherent racism, and whether it was intentional or inadvertent. This in turn opens the larger ongoing discussion of whether the creator's personal opinions are fair game within the larger framework of literary criticism. Me? I go back and forth on the issue, so I'm just aware that the ball is still in play.

So this is a very good companion volume to your dose of Lovecraft. It encouraged me to return to and reread some of the writers' lesser works (Most of which were gathered together in Arkham House's "Dagon and Other Macabre Tales" collection, which sadly concentrates Lovecraft to the point that the eldritch menaces start to blurr, a disservice to the individual stories). Ken brings his eclectic attitudes to the table and delivers a pleasant little meal that will satisfy those looking for a bit more about Lovecraft and his world.

And it has encouraged me to dig up my old collections of Ken's Suppressed Transmissions columns. Good weirdness, there.

More later,

Poster Boy

From Obamiconme via Jay Lake's blog, but everybody is going to be doing it.

Now if only I can find an app that changes it into those "Obey Giant" posters.

More later,

Dead Trees versus Kindling

I didn't make any resolutions to engage with new media this year, but that's just the way things are working out.

Case in point: My company gave its employees Amazon Kindles for Christmas. For those of you who don't glom onto the techno-gadgets, the Kindle is the new hotness e-book reader from Amazon.com. And it was a really cool gift, as it was definitely in the category of something I would not get for myself. And after staring at it for about a month (as it sat there, on my desk, in its box, mocking me with its cutting edge techno-goodness), I broke down and broke it out.

And its pretty good. Not something I would buy for myself(for reasons below), but something that I can use.

First off, the physical design is surprisingly sleek - an etch-a-sketch like screen with wide broad buttons for turning pages and a tiny keyboard at the bottom for those people who can type with their thumbs (as in ... not me). A roller/clicker that allows you access menus and move up and down the page. The screen is clear and the typefonts used very readable, and dare I say it - printlike. It is much easier to read than a computer screen.

The logic for using the interface takes a bit of poking about (remembering to click the previous page button, not the back button, for example), and you can choose your font size for readability. And it has limited access to the web, making it the perfect device to have on hand when you need to settle an argument in the bar (most useful site - Wikipedia).

Down sides - Its web access is pretty limited and clunky, but I think of it as a bonus, not a feature. To download books you need to have an Amazon account, and the Amazon website itself comes out pretty muddy on the screen. Screen size is not that great and it does not handle graphics well - I don't see this being used for gaming rules anytime soon (though the idea of being able to access your D&D rules with it would be kinda cool). The Amazon site is set up for computers, not Kindles, so you are better off finding what you want to buy on the computer, then downloading the exact title on the Kindle. The book choices are a mix of new titles right off the presses and shovelware just ported into Kindle format without any formatting (I almost got a complete collection of Twain, but it doesn't have any breaks between stories - instead being just one long file).

I bought a copy of Neil Stephenson's Anathem, which is pretty much the killer app for this device among SF fans. Stephenson's bug-smasher of a book shrinks down to a fairly containable size (along with a potential 199 more books), so in this way portability works in its favor. So I can carry around a book without the added weight. I'll use this for books that I don't really feel I need a hard copy of, or don't want to lug.

Since you can set your own font size, the concept of pages sort of goes by the wayside. Instead you can set bookmarks as you see fit (and write notes), but remembering to set them in the first place may be a challenge. Good news - it picks up exactly where you left off, so none of that fumbling about looking for the page you remember.

One challenge, as for all e-readers, is battery and storage. I can set a dead-tree book down by the side of my desk and not pick it up for months or years (yep, I've done this), and find exactly where I was before. The kindle needs charging every couple days (on sleep mode) or every week or so (if you turn it off). That's a point in favor of bulky, disposable dead trees.

So initial verdict? Interesting, better than anything else I have seen in the field so far. Good for a particular class of book (big, bulky, no illos or tables, and not intended to be permanent). Limited web features for the patient. Needs to grow its library further.

I'm in this for at least the first book - we'll see where it goes from there.

More later,

Getting Faced

You know how it is - you're having a pleasant evening, and you open a bottle of wine. And you have a glass and it is quite tasty, so you have another, then another, then that bottle is running dry and you open another, less-expensive vintage because your taste buds have already been pickled and then you wake up the next morning and realize that you've done something you'd never do otherwise.

Like sign up for Facebook.

Actually, I didn't have that much wine, but I have been getting the continual pings from friends who mention that they are on Facebook, and you can come look at their Facebook and hey, the water's fine over here in Facebook! So I created an account, invited about ten people I know, and started poking around.

First, there's the networking thing. I've already got 50+ friends in about 12 hours without even telling anyone, so I guess that's interesting. And while some of them are fans, most are people I know in real life, and have talked to in the last ten years or so. And almost all are from the Hobby Industry, none from college or high school (though, of course, when I was in high school, we still had crank-handled telephones, so there may be an age thing going on here).

Still, it seems to be a low-impact blog, which for me is a bit of a challenge, since I tend to treat blogging as a full-contact sport. I don't quite understand the applications yet, and rage against the lack of customization available (I think I was looking for a place to stash my CV online - I don't think this is it). It also seems to be a timesuck at the moment, but I expect that to pass.

In general, though, it feels like a convention. You go to GenCon and wandering the floor is one of the regular features, if only to re-connect with the people you haven't seen since the last time you were at the convention. I don't know how the continual contact of networking software will affect this feature of convention-going, but I do find it interesting.

For the moment, I think I'll have some more wine, and check out this Linked-In thing.

More later,

End Times

As readers of this journal know, it has been pretty bleak for local dead-tree media. Seattle has been favored with two dailies, the Post-Intelligencer (PI) and the Times (Times). I've been detailing the slow decay of the Times in regards to the loss of features - decimation of its editorial page, loss of recipes, shrinking of Sunday Book pages (I have a note here from 2005 talking about when they had three pages - now they are down to one), loss of crosswords, no daily TV section, etc, as well as loss of key staff and reviewers.

Yet the diminishment of the Times gets swept aside by the sudden announcement that the P-I has been put up for sale by its parent corp, Hearst. And this offer is considered only a formality, required by agreement, before shuttering the paper entirely. So from one paper we've had a cascade of children tossed off the back of the sled to the waiting wolves, while for the other the announcement that the entire sleigh is going off the cliff.

The thing that is particularly concern-making, is that the staff had no clue. The initial report was from KING-TV that the parent Hearst group was going to offer the paper for sale. The newspaper itself had no clue, and the various reporters seem struck dumb by the suddenness of the decision. This is a concern not only for the P-Iers, but for anyone whose corporate masters are not within throttling distance. Those who chose to close the P-I were far removed from those who are to take the hit.

So we may go to one major daily, or maybe none (despite the perky concern-trolling from the Times on this, it ain't in great shape, and the idea that a major client for its printing is evaporating make not make up for the fact that a major competitor is going away. Over on the free weeklies side, the Seattle Weekly continues its painful diminution into irrelevancy, guided by the same people who are destroying the LA Weekly. Of the newsprint media, the Stranger, of all people, seems to be the strongest, yet that is supported by a extremely viable and vibrant online presence.

Mind you, the current economic crisis is the reason for "why now" in the same way that extremely cold winter is why great-grandma finally passed on. In reality, the symptoms have been evident for some time, and in many ways the recession gives management the cover to abandon all attempts to rebuild reader base and throw the readers to the wolves in hopes that the sleigh escapes.

More later,

Jeff's Day Off

I intended to do this during the holiday season - take a flat out day off from the day job and take the Lovely Bride to the SAM (Seattle Art Museum - best known for the "Hammering Man" outside its doors). I wanted to go on a weekday because the weekends tend to be a bit crowded. We haven't been there since the SAM re-opened after a major expansion. The excuse not to put it off any longer was the last days of S'Abadeb - the Gifts, a display of Pacific Coast Salish Arts and Artists. And I figured that even the Friday before close, it would not be too crowded.

Well I was sort of right. I had forgotten school groups, and a cascade of mildly hyper snowflakes was enough to put anyone off their reflective game. In general, though, the kids were well-behaved, but the voluminous hall of the display bounced what noise they made back on itself, so even now I have a mild headache.

The display itself was on the artistic end of the Salish peoples (who inhabited the Sound area before the Euro-Americans showed up), and while it covered all manner of fish clubs, cat-tail beaters, and wool spindle wheels, I don't think it made the link between these items and everyday life. Mind you, this is an art museum, not a museum of culture, societies, or anthropology, so any sort of display walks the careful line, and artifacts assembled varied from the mundane to the marvelous.

And for the Cthulhian-minded, they had a modern work, a bentwood cedar box by John Marston called The Legend of Octopus Point which just screams Lovecraft in the Pacific Northwest.

But what we particularly moving were the ghosts. There were a number of empty display podiums, lit but unoccupied, the explanation tag giving some quote involving loss. And if you hung about the displays (and the thundering snowflakes were not around), you could hear a rattle, or a chant, or a voice. It was actually very affecting about the idea of what has been lost in the acclimation of the Salish people to western ways, and made the other, physical artifacts all the more poignant.

There was also a small (10-piece) display on Edward Hopper titled Edward Hopper's Women, but which really could be called Edward Hopper - Even Creepier Than You First Thought, since it delves into more of his voyeuristic tendencies and obsessions. The presentation was tiny, and the LB noted repetitious in its commentary, but still nice.

Lunch at the Pike Place BrewPub at the market, solid food made wonderful by a very knowledgeable and friendly wait-person (who explained how and why they "air-fry' their fish and chips, brings the LB a brown mustard sauce they from another dish for her Reuben). Back to the museum for another short walkabout.

The rest of the museum is still a work in progress. For most of its history, the museum has been in a rather tight vertical operation, and now that they have spread out, it feels like when you moved into your first house and all the stuff from the apartment looks lonely and small. It's pretty much like that. The lobby is overtaken by a massive installation made up of ten white Ford Tauruses/Mercury Sables pitching end-over end in a three-dimensional stop motion animation of a car crash. It is called Inopportune: Stage One, by Cai Guo-Qiang. Supposedly a response to 9/11, it instead strikes me as the nature of an idea as catalyst - car take flight, is brilliantly lit up, flips out of control, but in the end comes to rest unharmed (though they have a museum docent at both ends of the installation to keep people from touching the parked cars). Trust me to see a happy ending in this piece of art.

Similarly, the museum now has space for Some/One, a 40'wide armored gown made of dog tags. Earlier it had to be tucked under itself. And there is room for Mann und Maus, a sculptural whimsy of a ten-foot tall rodent sitting on a sleeper's chest.

But in general it feels like the museum hasn't quite figured out how to live in its new space. African masks lead to Islamic writings lead to Egyptian/Roman, and Greek sculpture. Its not quite chronological not quite geographical, nor even thematic. It just is stuff that should be displayed, but does not come together yet in terms of making an entire presentation. How does the Italian room fit in? What about porcelain room?

Eventually, like people moving furniture about, the museum will figure it out, understand what its priorities are and how to present them. They did wonders with the economy of space they had allotted previously, and should, over time come to terms with the new opportunities presented.

And yeah, the Salish show closes on Sunday, but if you get a chance, check it out.

More later,

Weather Report

I was going to write about type faces, but instead the current situation drags me back to the current Weathermageddon. After the abnormal and heavy snows of December, we are now hit with abnormal and excessive rain.

Now rain in Seattle, despite our reputation, is usually soft and misty and relatively polite. This is serious midwestern rain - big globby spitballs from on high. And it just does not stop.

However, we, both on Grubb Street and in the greater Seattle area, are doing OK. Once again, the metropolitan area is in the rain shadow of the storm (I've been here ten years, and this year is the first that I've heard of Seattle being in a "rain shadow" (that is, mountains between us and the worst of the storm). Usually that term is used for Port Townsend out on the peninsula.

North, south, and west of us is another matter. The roads over the passes are closed, there was an avalanche at Stevens Pass and another large one at the ski resort up at Snoqualmie. South of here, it looks like I-5 will be closed again as the rivers in the Chehalis/Centralia area need somewhere to go (and most of the flatland has been taken up with new development).

The worst I've seen here is that we've got a leak at the office - not over any machinery, mind you, but still it is an irritant. For the moment, the lowlands around the office are not flooded (touch wood), but the rain continues to fall.

More later,

Comics: Dark Reign Gonna Fall.

So it’s been a while, let’s see how the big comic universes are doing with their mega-events.

Once upon a time, comics existed in their own little self-contained vacuoles, such that the DC heroes had their own feudal cities (Metropolis, Gotham City, Central City, etc …) and the streams very rarely crossed. Then they got itchy and started teaming up all over the place, and with the Marvel Era all of them were in the same city, interacting up a storm. Then we got yearly “events”, which often played out in three summer months or in an annual were bunches of heroes were gathered. And then we had the maxi-events, which would change the world forever, create a new continuity, and make things as they never were before.

Worlds will live, worlds will die. And because of the popularity, these crisis books have become their own sense of continuity, ever-continuing, creating a cloud of subordinate books, and no longer tied into the books that birthed the characters. And sometimes that works, and sometimes it doesn’t. (Oh yeah - Spoilers from here on out).

One place where it worked pretty well was Marvel’s Secret Invasion, which involved shapeshifting Skrulls, a long-time Marvel alien race, replacing a lot of key people in the Marvel Universe as a prelude to a full-scale military invasion. The time frame of the eight issues was no more than a couple days, and the main book consisted of little more than a bash-em-up with a traditional three act framework (which is, as we know – 1) Chase the heroes up the tree, 2) Throw Rocks at them, and 3) Get them down). It did it well, and occupied such as small footprint of continuity that the mainstream books could work around them. Plus, the idea of using core books (like the Mighty Righty Avengers and New Lefty Avengers) to fill in the back story worked out nicely.

Furthermore, the big event spawned off a bunch of smaller limited series as well as directed attention to lower-selling books (like Hercules and the now-cancelled She-Hulk). And as a sales ploy, it worked – I picked up a lot of the smaller books and felt I had a good feel for the mega-event itself.
Downside, when it resolved … well, it didn’t really. Sure, the heroes defeated the Skrulls (mostly by figuring out how to identify them as Skrulls and then punching them in the face), and a terrible price was paid (Luke Cage’s child went missing and Janet Van Dyne (the Wasp, one of the initial Avengers), died, but mostly it the last issue was used to set up the NEXT big crisis – Dark Reign.

Here’s the short form on that – the Heroes were thought to have screwed up so badly (Civil War, World War Hulk, and now some of them were Skrulls) that the US turns to the villains – namely multimillionaire Harry Osborne, formerly Green Goblin, and also formerly dead – to run things. Harry immediately convenes his “Dark Illuminati” – Loki, Red Hood, White Queen, Namor, and Doctor Doom, promising them what they want if they just play along. Having gotten the upper hand at last, they intend to keep it.

OK, that’s cool, but the fires of the Invasion are hardly out before the Reign begins. That’s my only real quibble. (Well, Hank (Ant-Man, Giant-Man, Yellow Jacket, Doctor Pym) Pym deciding to honor his late wife by becoming – the Wasp, is kinda lame as well).

Meanwhile, over in DC, its Final Crisis has produced the opposite effect from me. Plagued by delays, apparent revisions, and poor editorial coordination, it has kept me AWAY from books that tie in among its subsidiary mini-series. I am following the main maxi-series books more out of lurid curiosity than an expectation that I will like what’s going to happen. I use the phrase “dog’s breakfast” way too often, but this series is truly a morning culinary treat for Bowser.

Part of it is that the story has taken its fine old time chasing the heroes up the tree in the first place. Part of it is that they are throwing particularly sharp rocks at them (death, despair, torture, corruption). Part of it is that the story relies both on a very deep knowledge of continuity while demanding you immediately ignore continuity for it to work. Part of it is that it has no real connection (yet) with the parental books (there were some attempts early on, but once the delays hit, everything sort of shifted off into their own worlds). Part of it is that the story (Darkseid, the embodiment of evil in the DC Universe, finally wins) just isn’t a lot of fun.

Maxi-series crisis books are supposed to, at their base, enhance sales by attracting cross-over purchasers and expose new people to existing comics. This has done the opposite, repelling people from the connected books, cutting itself off from the books it has sprung from, and almost occupying it own reality Earth-Null, if you will.

Two universes, two companies, two major series. One makes all the right moves but in the end fails to resolve as a story, while the other aspires to greater things but collapses of its own weight and pretentiousness.

And in six months, they will have switched places again.

More later,