I can attest, for I was there, that Davy Kraken and A Decade for a Stik? were married today, in a short ceremony (followed by an interminable photography session, and then by a fun air-conditioned reception) in Florida.

I want to thank Davy Kraken for honoring me with the position of Best Man, and apologize for losing the rings. Just kidding; I had the rings all along.

In my toast, I pointed out that there have been many horror stories of people meeting online and trying to form relationships, and that one such horror story began today.

Fortunately, both parties know me well enough that they appreciated the joke. Or, well, I hope so anyway. I was reluctant to ask, especially after "toasting" them with two pieces of actual toast I kifed from my hotel's breakfast bar. After all, everyone was expecting a pun, and who am I to disappoint?

Seriously, though, in a time when there seems to be nothing but one piece of bad news after another, it's good to participate in these moments of unedited happiness, when friends and family gather for the best of reasons.

So here's to the newlyweds: live long, and prosper.
 

http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-31749_162-20072319-10391698.html

Clarence Clemons, Bruce Springsteen's longtime saxophone player and a legend in the music industry, died Saturday from complications following a stroke he suffered about a week ago...

Always one of the best parts about seeing Bruce on stage, Clarence was always the large, benevolent presence, an anchor for the rest of the band.

I don't know if the E Street Band can continue after a loss like this, but I consider myself very fortunate to have seen him play several times.

The world is much less in tune tonight.
 

It's rare that I get to make an entry that reflects the literal title of this blog. In fact, I don't think it's ever happened before.

But now:

Yes, yes, I know it's been over a month. Sorry.

Went to Texas (Waltz World Tour, baby!) Had a great time. Finally met MaryLou and Acme in person. Saw Houston Space Center, which I'd been wishing to do for some time, now. Attended a fun wedding. Drank good beer. Ate a genuine Texas steak. Decided that you can't see America from an interstate, and made plans to a) road trip more and b) fly to England in May.

Anyway, that's not what finally got me off my butt to post, though that was pretty awesome. So's this:

http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2011/03/a_quintessence_of_dust.html

What we are left with are the cosmic shadows on the wall of Plato's cave. Ultimately the images from Hubble will give us a glimpse of conditions that existed an infinitesimal instant after the Big Bang. There will never be an image of the Big Bang itself, because it had no image. There was Nothing, and then there was Something, and all we can hope is to see that Something as soon as possible after it became.

Roger Ebert now officially rocks.
 

In case any of you were beginning to doubt the inevitable rise of the dead:

http://www.aolnews.com/2011/02/21/pat-the-bunny-gets-zombie-makeover/

"Pat the Zombie" is a sinister zombie parody of the beloved 1940 touch-and-feel children's classic, "Pat the Bunny." Authors Aaron Ximm and Kaveh Soofi say it's a perfect read for dry-humored parents who are burnt out on the original.

However, I think that the authors missed a vital opportunity by trying to keep this masterpiece from their offspring. They'll need to learn... sometime. One way or another.
 

It's sixty degrees out, my favorite bar has an Imperial stout, and my favorite bartender (Meredith) is back.

See? It doesn't take much to make me feel better.


(To clarify: Meredith left in November for a four-month work/study thing in Europe. It turned into a three-month work/study thing, hence my pleasant surprise at having her back. And no, I don't have a "thing" for her; she's just a really good bartender.)
 

Say what you want about being single, but I'm going to say this:

Having nothing to be pressured into doing on Valentine's Day (VD) is a major, major relief.

The crap I said in last week's Comedy newsletter aside, sometimes I think VD was invented by some misandrist woman who is probably chuckling in her grave over the crap we XYs have to go through on VD.

It's like this: I've never, not even once, been involved with a woman who appreciated VD. And contrary to popular belief, I've dated a few women.

And yet, almost every year, one of two things happens:

Either 1) I do the roses, chocolate, and dinner out thing, or 2) I get broken up with just before my birthday, which is four days from now.

Look... girls... it's like this: If you're into VD, just frakking SAY SO. Don't pretend you're not just to see whether we're committed enough to do something ANYway, because men are a lot simpler than that. "Don't get me anything for VD" means, to us, "Don't get me anything for VD." End of line.

If you ARE into it, that's cool. I can do the flowers thing. I'd rather make you a nice home-cooked meal, but even there you won't be going out while some of your friends certainly will, so there's a dilemma too: Do something from my heart, based on a skill I actually have (cooking) or do something to conform with your friends so you can talk to them about it the next day. And going out always involves overpriced, lousy food and crappy service, when we could just as easily go out on another night and have a great time.

The whole thing sucks, for us. Sucks. And don't give me the "You'll get yours on Steak and Blowjob Day (March 14)," either, because I don't want anything for S&BJD (or wait - yes, I do; I'm just not going to TELL you and let you figure it out for yourself when I'm lying on the couch pointing at it with a big grin on my face).

I know it sounds like I'm ragging on women, here, and I'm sorry if it seems that way. It's not my intent. It's only Valentine's Day that's the target of my angst this night. I guess VD brings out the worst in all of us.

So, yeah. Glad I've got no pressure, for once, this year. I'm just going to go over to my friend Nicole's house; she's ordered some takeout and we're going to watch some anime with her kid.

Wait... Oh, shit... am I supposed to bring chocolate?
 

This restores a teeny, tiny bit of my hope for the future of humanity:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQRMvg5TAl8&sns=fb
 

Mubarak: (paraphrased) "I'd love to step down now, but Egypt would descend into chaos."

...Ummmm....



(Funniest joke I've seen related to the conditions in Egypt right now:

"Egyptians:

Do not harm the pyramids in your protests. We will not rebuild.

-The Jews")


((Yes, I know the Hebrews didn't work on the pyramids. It's still funny.))


(((Yes, I know the Hebrews probably never actually were slaves in Egypt. I don't care. It's STILL funny.)))
 

Greetings from sunny Virginia, where it's a balmy 60 degrees. My snow shovel hangs lonely in a dusty corner of my storage room, and my car is remarkably free of solid-phase water of any sort. Today I took a stroll in shorts and a t-shirt and sandals.

I'm enjoying the Blizzard of 2011; how about you?
 

Came back yesterday but didn't feel much like blogging.

I'm reminded why New York City is a good place to visit, but not to live: there was two feet of snow on the ground, and that's not in the places where plows piled it up, usually on top of people's cars. Oh, it's fine in the summer, but NYC winters are freaking miserable.

And they're going to get more snow from all the global warming

Just received word that my aunt died this morning.

Not really unexpected - she was close to 90 and just basically died of old age.

But she was someone I was close to all my life, my mom's sister, who took me to Europe and Israel when I was eight, taught me how to use a computer shortly thereafter, and gave me my first summer internship... sort of.

She was a businesswoman in a world where women were supposed to be housewives or secretaries; a childfree single woman in a world where women were expected to have kids, not jobs, for fulfillment; an educator and a strong role model for both men and women. A feminist before feminism was cool.

She was a true New Yorker, having lived in the city all her life. Yet, she had the good fortune to travel around the world. She was witty, vibrant, and never took shit from anyone without giving it back tenfold.

She ran her own business school for many years, which I'm sure improved the lives of many people. The world is truly a little bit better for her having been in it.

So, soon, I'll be heading up to New York, where she'll be buried out on Long Island, not too far from her longtime home in Queens.

So long, Aunt Adele. Of all the people in the world that I miss, you're at the top of the list.
 

Most of us will never hit it big in music (unless your name is Michelle), but now we can come pretty close:

Generate your own album cover.

http://blog.mflow.com/make-your-bands-album-cover-how-t/

Some of the results are uncannily authentic.

Like this one:

http://flo.mu/gv7NQ2

And this one:

http://flo.mu/h2vWUB

And especially this one:

http://flo.mu/hlfyCx

Seriously. I could see them in stores. If, you know, there were still stores that sold albums. Or even CDs.
 

...of how awesome I am.

I feed one cat outside and the other one inside, else the first cat, Ghost, would eat all of Kali's food after he was done with his. Kali's a slow eater.

I always put Ghost's food in the same place: on the deck, between the recycling bin and the cinderblock. (I keep a cinderblock on the deck in case I have something out there I need to keep from blowing away, or keep the raccoons out of... oh, hell, no, I have no idea where it came from and no good way to dispose of it so it sits there.)

So today I dumped Ghost's food into his plate, and, as usual, he comes running out of nowhere once he hears the can open. I think it's a genetic thing with cats; they're hard-wired to appear when a can opens.

I dump the food in his plate, and he runs around the deck looking for it.

"Ghost. It's over here."

"Where?"

"Here. HERE. Where it always is."

"Where?"

So I pick him up and put him at the plate, and he starts scarfing the disgusting cat food.

I come back in, where my roommate has heard the entire exchange, and I say:

"Not the sharpest claw on the scratching post, that one."

He looks at me.

"You're just way too proud of yourself for saying that."

"Even more proud that I just made it up."

That's how awesome I am.
 

... of the year.

Every year, around this time, I think, "Wow. Next year has GOT to be better." And every year, I'm proven wrong.

But you know what? In spite of my wife leaving, and having little to no work at work, and not having been published...

2010 was still a pretty good year. I finally got to do some traveling I'd been meaning to do, which I wouldn't have been able to do if I were still with the wife and if I had a lot of work - I've often complained that if I have too much work to do, I don't have time to travel, but if I don't have enough work to do, I need to be looking for more work instead of traveling. Well, I finally broke out of that cycle, and ran around anyway. I saw Brandiwyn ♪ and Mumsy v2012 (both multiple times) and finally met Storm Machine in person. I went to Seattle and Vancouver and Cedar Rapids and Columbus and Wilmington, DE and San Francisco and Las Fucking Vegas, not to mention destinations right here in VA. I went to northern New Jersey (the non-ugly section) to meet DarWilliams. I've enjoyed the trips, except for the airport security thing.

And I'll be doing more in 2011.

2010 was also the Year of the Gadget for me. Never been much of a gadget hound, but this year I acquired a Kindle, an iPod touch, a GPS, and a few other toys. And you know what? They say that acquiring "stuff" doesn't fulfill you. Bullshit. I'm pretty fucking fulfilled right now! Gadgets are cool!

This year, I learned how to play guitar. Still learning, of course - but making progress.

And y'all already know about most of the concerts. This year, I came to the conclusion that the times in my life when I've been happiest has been at musical events. So Tuesday, at the Gogol Bordello show, I pushed myself out into the mosh pit and got close enough to touch the band. It was awesome. I was the oldest guy in the pit... which, as my friend pointed out, made me the coolest guy in the pit.

And tonight, after meeting up with ten of my friends, both old and new, for dinner, I'll be headed for the last concert of the year: Cracker and Southern Culture on the Skids. And that'll be it for this year.

2010 kinda rocked, actually.

So, no, 2011 does NOT "have" to be better. It could, in fact, be far, far worse.

I'll just expect that, then... that way, I can only be pleasantly surprised.

Happy New Year to all my readers (thanks, both of you), from one cynical bastard!
 

There is no dark side in the moon, really. Matter of fact it's all dark.
-Gerry O'Driscoll (as recorded by Pink Floyd)

As most of you know, I think astronomy's cool. I feel lucky to live in an age where we're finding extrasolar planets, and even, in some cases, being able to analyze their atmospheres. I really hope I'm still around when they first find extraterrestrial life (by which I mean probably microbes or something similar, not being taken over by space aliens).

But sometimes it's the stuff close to home that's really cool. Case in point: Tuesday's total lunar eclipse.

Lunar eclipses aren't all that rare; they come around even more frequently than a blue moon (for which see some October blog entries here and "Fantasy Newsletter (November 23, 2010)" ) but with different patterns. Most of us have seen one. One time I didn't even know there was going to be an eclipse, which is rare for me since I usually keep up with such things, and I saw the shadow on the Moon and freaked out for about three seconds until I realized, "eclipse."

While not rare, the event can be striking. The moon generally turns a copper or blood-red color, the result of selective bending of the red end of the sun's spectrum through the edges of the Earth's atmosphere. It's every sunrise and sunset on Earth, projected onto the Moon, which is pretty awesome to contemplate. If you were standing on the Moon, you'd see our planet, dark but for scattered lights of civilization, surrounded by a halo of fire.

Cool.

Anyway, the result of that is the sunlight bends through our atmosphere, hits the dark rocks of the Moon, and bounces back to our night side. Result: Red. Or sometimes copper. Depends on how much dust is in the atmosphere when it happens.

The truly cool thing about this eclipse, though, is that it occurs on the date of the (northern hemisphere) Winter Solstice, December 21. Which doesn't really mean anything - but it's still cool.

Here's a Wikipedia article   about it, complete with animated simulation of the Moon traversing the Earth's shadow:

That article in turn links to this,   which contains the following note:

This lunar eclipse falls on the date of the northern winter solstice. How rare is that? Total lunar eclipses in northern winter are fairly common. There have been three of them in the past ten years alone. A lunar eclipse smack-dab on the date of the solstice, however, is unusual. Geoff Chester of the US Naval Observatory inspected a list of eclipses going back 2000 years. "Since Year 1, I can only find one previous instance of an eclipse matching the same calendar date as the solstice, and that is 1638 DEC 21," says Chester. "Fortunately we won't have to wait 372 years for the next one...that will be on 2094 DEC 21."

Rare enough. The chance of me being alive in 2094 approaches zero, so I don't want to miss this one - even though it's bloody damn cold out there, and I'll have to be outside at 3 in the morning.

My plan? If it's not cloudy Monday night (if it is, I will be five kinds of pissed off), I'm going to wear fourteen layers of clothing, grab my camera and binoculars (they have to have SOME use besides perving on the neighbors), drive up to the Blue Ridge, and find a spot with a good view of the western sky. There are plenty.

I won't be worth a damn on Tuesday, but what the hell - it's the solstice.

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
 

(Note: I forgot to mention that after Vegas, I was also flying to the San Francisco area. I'm there now, but my flight home leaves at six in the goddamn morning... again.)

Drive across the Golden Gate Bridge
Drink California wines in California to test theory that they keep the good stuff for themselves (they do)
Play Poker in Las Vegas
Get propositioned by a prostitute (and politely decline)
Make out with Zoe Saldana

Oh well... I need something to look forward to.
 

Leaving tomorrow.

At six in the goddamn morning.

My hometown airport being a lot smaller than, say, Richmond's or DC's, there aren't long lines at security, and I don't think they've implemented the nudie scanners. So I figure I can get there around 5.

Which still means leaving home at 4 fucking thirty.

Have I mentioned I'm not a morning person? And tomorrow morning will be three hours longer than usual, because I'll be jumping time zones.

So my solution is to stay up until it's time to leave. My friend is going to drive me to the airport (which makes him, in my book, a GOOD friend, since he's getting up at four to do it), and I figure I can sleep on the planes. Maybe. Unless I get stuck next to some infant - which is a nightmare worse than security checkpoints.

So I've got my stuff together, eliminated contraband such as shampoo and toothpaste from my carrion (vultures have carrion luggage), and stashed a couple hundred in cash that I fully intend to lose at the tables.

Now I just hope they let me on the plane with my trench coat...
 

So there have been a good number of stories lately about airport screening measures, revolts upon same, and lawsuits.

Here's one:

http://www.prisonplanet.com/tsa-hit-with-lawsuits-as-revolt-explodes.html

Now, this got me to thinking, because I find myself once again planning air travel (this might be my last flight unless sanity resumes).

One complaint I've heard is that you can either walk through a scanner that essentially takes a naked picture of you through your clothes, or opt for a physical scan. The latter involves someone groping your privates (and I somehow doubt that someone looks like Zoe Saldana, or I'd totally fly more).

Now, honestly, I'm of two minds about this. While I think the threat of terrorism is real, I also think it's blown (see what I did there?) way out of proportion. Here's an article from Cracked that elucidates it pretty well:

http://www.cracked.com/article_18849_6-statistically-full-s2321t-dangers-media-l...

Summary: Cows are more hazardous than sharks; stairs will kill you before elevators will; and: "In the last decade -- including the 9/11 attacks -- you've been about 10 times more likely to die from a fire you accidentally set in your home than from a terrorist attack. Somebody should make a show about a Jack Bauer type who runs around reminding people to put out the goddamned cigarette before they pass out on the sofa."

Now, you can argue that it's airport screening that keeps the incidence low. I'm not going to argue with that, because I don't have the data and I'm too lazy to look it up. All I know is, I think they could fucking ease off a little without significantly raising the chance I'm going to get blown up by a right-wing extremist or other terrorist type.

Hell, I don't see metal detectors installed around Detroit, and if you enter THAT shithole, you're taking a way bigger chance than you are flying.

Anyway, my other mind is like: Who cares? So someone can see my privates in an x-ray scan. We as a nation need to chill the hell out about nudity, anyway. We make such a goddamned big deal of it people are STILL talking about Janet Jackson's boob at the Superbowl from a few years ago.

Relax. It's a body. Half the people in the world have one similar to yours. Leaving aside whether the measures are actually useful or not, so what? Maybe there'd be less anger in the world if we could see each other naked more often. More disgust, maybe, but less anger.

So here's my proposal:

Everyone show up to the airport naked.

Seriously.

They're going to look anyway. And you can put your clothes in a carry-on and slip into them before you get on the airplane. They can look through your carry-on, but there'll be no damn reason to x-ray or grope you.

Just show up naked.

That's a protest I can get behind.

(See what I did there?)


Anyway, I also wanted to share this, which is completely unrelated:

We want to offer all of you an apology. We asked our readers to photoshop us some "inappropriate children's book covers." This seemed like such a simple, innocuous idea because quite frankly there is nothing as innocent as a child and there is no more wholesome activity than reading.

More than 400 entries later, we realized how tragically, horribly wrong we were. We have ordered the following entries roughly from least disturbing to most, and the very worst have been placed safely at the end. We recommend no one look at them.

At the very end we have placed the winner, who will receive five thousand pennies, which is $50. Again, we're sorry.

We apologize in advance for the eight most offensive entries, #8 to #1.

http://www.cracked.com/photoplasty_3_the-40-most-inappropriate-childrens-book-co...