R.I.P., Benazir Bhutto

I'm not usually one to comment on international politics, but this is just sad:

"Pakistan opposition leader Benazir Bhutto was assassinated Thursday in a suicide attack. Her death threw the campaign for critical Jan. 8 parliamentary elections into chaos and stoked fears of mass protests and violence across the nuclear-armed nation, an important U.S. ally in the war on terrorism."

Now, I don't know much about this woman or her politics, but by all accounts she was a reformer and a visionary. A good person with noble goals for her country and it's people. But the radical Islamists had other ideas and, as is typical for such fanatics, their solution to people that don't agree with them is to simply kill them and be done with it. When will humanity learn that such tactics never prove who is right, only who is left? So sad...

Of Holidays and Things Hidden

I'm back at work now, after being off for Christmas. For me, the holiday started on Friday with a visit from my sister and brother-in-law. We celebrated the Winter Solstice then, with two big pots of chili and some gift giving before they had to head back home. They absolutely floored us with their gift to us. His entire collection of Magic the Gathering cards. He doesn't play any more and we do, sporadically, so there you go. Never mind the fact that his stuff is all over 4 years old and worth quite a bit. Needless to say, I was speechless. First time for everything, I guess.

Saturday (the actual day of the Solstice) was spent driving to Atlanta for our Christmas visit with my wife's family. Aside from some normal pre-trip bickering, it went pretty well. Saturday night we wrapped some presents and talked with her family for a bit. Her sister is pregnant, so there there was the usual ooohing and aaahing over her extended tummy. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Then her parents gave us an early Christmas present. Tickets for the Sunday show at Medieval Times! Coolness! What is it with people giving us extraordinary gifts this year?

Sunday morning we went to church with her parents. Out of respect, I try to grit my teeth and deal with such burdens as well as I can manage. Fortunately, the trip was shorter than normal (no Sunday School) due to the Holidays. We went out to eat and then back to the parents' house for a nap (!) and more present wrapping. Evening rolled around and my wife and I were off to the show. Yes, folks, we actually had a night out without worrying about the kids! Amazing.

Medieval Times is an interesting experience for those of us who do historical re-enactment ourselves. On the one hand, it's right up our alley and on the other it's just really, really commercialized, hokey, cheesy and silly. Still, we bought some fairly nice souvenirs, the food was good and some of the props they used made me envious (especially the black and white fleur de lis banners). All in all, a nice evening getaway.

Christmas Eve rolled around and the present-wrapping finally got done. Her family decided that we were going to do the big Christmas meal that night so that her sister and brother-in-law could join us. Also because we had to drive back home on Christmas Day. One thing I'll say about my Mother-in-Law, she can certainly cook. I ate far too much and didn't really care. Of course, the quality of the food was balanced by the fact that my wife's mother treats just about every meal like a formal occasion. Even breakfast. Maybe that's just because we were guests, but it really makes one feel self-conscious. I'm used to eating on the couch or in the car half the time. Still, I'm willing to put up with a lot for a good meal, so it wasn't that big a deal to play along.

Christmas Day dawned cloudy and wet, but inside the house all was bright and cheerful. We did the annual ritual of opening our swag, of which there was much. I ended up with a couple of DVD's, a lot of Magic cards/cases/card sleeves, a sweater, a self-adjusting crescent wrench*, and a really nice lap desk for use with our laptop. Not a bad haul. After we finished with the frenzy of unwrapping all the stuff we'd taken such pains to wrap in the first place, we loaded up, said our good-byes and headed home. The trip back was uneventful. Nothing to see there. Move along.

Now that I'm (reluctantly) back at work, I've had a chance to think about a couple of things from the holiday happenings. 1) we have some really good people in our lives and 2) as my good friend Jack over at Thirteen Letters has pointed out, sometimes there is a "lack of depth to my inner life" and "everything is surface". My wife informed me before we left on our trip that her parents "wanted to get to know me better", since I was married to their daughter and all. A reasonable thing, that. But I'm afraid it would prove harder than it may seem. To truly know a person is to know the depths of their inner life, as it were. For some, those deep places are open and accessible, filled with bridges built from good memories, supportive relationships and bright, shiny pasts. For others... not so much. For those of us who have undergone far less than pleasant experiences, the surface is all that we are able to offer up for inspection. At least to all but a select few. Even then, it can be hard to let certain aspects of ourselves show. So, did her parents come to know me better? Perhaps my surface, yes. But I'm afraid the depths must remain hidden. Which is kind of a shame, because there may be some really worthwhile things lurking down there that will never see the light of day.

Hope everyone had a great holiday. At least on the surface.

*as seen on tv.

Facets

What do The Prince of Egypt cartoon, a trip to a busy shopping mall and my distinctly non-mainstream religious views have in common? No, this isn't a set up for a joke. Allow me to explain... no, there is too much. Allow me to sum up.

The other night my wife and I caught the tail end of the above mentioned cartoon. She thinks it's a great story, what with her being Christian and all. I have other opinions on the whole thing, which aren't so complimentary to the main characters. I won't go into the particulars here, but let's just say that it always leads to some interesting discussion around our house on the nature of God and certain biblical happenings. Like why is God so bloody and mean in the Old Testament and so sweetness and light in the New one. Isn't He supposed to be an immutable and unchanging force? We didn't really pursue our normal bickering over religion on this particular occasion because we were tired and it was late, but I did some pondering on the subject later. As I was meeting my wife for lunch at the mall food court today, something clicked and I realized what had been nagging at me since then.

Some religions propose a Duality of Deity (ie. male and female), but I think it's far more complex than that. Even the multi-God pantheons of ancient times are too simplistic. "God" is simply not a person or a group of people with human-like form and emotions. It is more like a great gemstone with infinite facets, each reflecting a different aspect of existence. Even that is a crude analogy for something that is, truly, far beyond our mortal ability to grasp. I am a facet of the Divine. So are you. All interconnected and none more or less important to It than another. Any human face we put on God is merely our own filter on the light of those infinite reflections. The Old Testament God was cruel and warlike because the people of the time were cruel and warlike. The God of Dianic Wiccans is fiercely feminine because they are, and so on. How many of us will follow a God we don't agree with? And yet, above and beyond our petty squabbles over which of our anthropomorphized Deities is the One True God, lies a deeper truth. Reality is incomprehensibly vast and complex. Each and every one of us is an Aspect of that Reality. A facet, reflecting the qualities of God that we embody. Knowing that doesn't make people any easier to deal with when they are in conflict with us, but it sure makes walking through a crowded mall a whole lot more interesting. Brings to mind an INXS song from the 80's. Every single one of us has the Devil inside. And Jehovah. And Apollo. And Loki. And Isis. And the Great Spirit. And... well, you get the idea.

In Absentia

Been really busy and feeling anti-social the past few days. Holiday shopping and other annoyances have me wishing I could retreat into a warm, dark cave and hole up for the Winter. This seems to be a normal cycle for me, actually, so don't sweat the silence when it comes. I'll be my normal gregarious self again before you know it. After all, what good is having a blog if I can't spew forth rambling, vitriolic monologues at regular intervals? No good at all, says I.

Astrological Shenanigans

"Someone is starting a new phase of their life today, and you will be especially tuned into it." That is the first line of my wife's horoscope today. The interesting thing is that my step-daughter turns 16 today, which is an important birthday. It makes her a quasi-adult. Not as important as 18, of course, since she's still a minor in almost every respect, but still it's at this point that she will start learning what it means to be an adult. The stars apparently have noticed this event. Don't tell my step-daughter, though. Her ego is already big enough. Kidding! Happy Birthday, Carmen!

Adrift in a Sea of Me

Have you ever had one of those days where it felt like you were lost in an ocean of your own cares and concerns? Like you were being swept along in conflicting currents of thought and never quite able to navigate to solid ground? Trying to focus on work on a day like this is impossible. I find myself thinking of just about everything but my current task. I have Yule gifts to find and purchase, rapier techniques to ponder and practice, rapier melee strategy to consider for the upcoming War, financial matters to work out, people to do and things to talk to. Or something. And that's just a sample of the chaos that is currently engulfing the vast reaches of my mental landscape. Like Captain Jack Sparrow in the final Pirates movie, I am trapped in Limbo, kept company by a multitude of myselves, each with his own agenda and none willing to wait his turn to seek my full attention. Perhaps it's a symptom of the unsettled weather outside, but whatever the cause, it's most disconcerting. Later in the day, hopefully, I'll be able to find some sheltered cove of calm thought amidst the cognitive squall.

Post-practice Depression

We had quite a lot of people show up for the Regional Rapier Practice at our place yesterday. After two weeks of planning, cleaning house, and worry over the weather it turned out pretty good. Yes, it rained a bit and I took some shots that I'd rather not have taken, but all in all I did better than I expected. We had some very good fighters in attendance (you know who you are), so losing a few bouts here and there is expected. Ysabel decided to put the Iron Ring of Meridies (aka The Precious) up for grabs. Since she is having trouble with her right wrist and can only fight left-handed, she decided that those of us who wanted the Ring could fight each other for it. Single sword. With our off hands. At the same time. Yes, a true last man standing free-for-all using what is likely to be everyone's worst style possible. Hell, yeah! Using my extraordinary skill and cunning, I walked away with the Precious. (Okay, so I ran away a lot, convinced people to fight each other instead of me and maybe engaged in a sneaky shot or two... but it worked, right?) Once all the fighting was over with, we retired to our downstairs for heaping plates of Ysabel's lasagna, which was devoured with much enthusiasm. There was much merriment before our stalwart visitors finally had to bid us good evening and be on their way. All in all, a good day.

Now for the bad. I hurt all over, as usual. My back is reminding me of just how strenuous my style of fighting is. There are two chronic trouble spots that hurt so bad this morning, I very nearly decided to forgo work in favor of a doctor visit. But they would have been dangerously short handed if I did, so off to work I went like a good little code monkey. Now I have a tension headache from Hell and am wishing the world would just piss off for while. Not bloody likely.

Was it worth it? Of course. Would I do it all again? Of course. Does that make me any less cranky at the moment? Not really. Still, we did learn some important lessons. Fabris, properly done, is deadly. Chess pie is freakin' yummy. The Muppet Show is just as funny now as it was when we were kids. And last, but certainly not least... never trust a Frenchman.

The Future is Now!

It's pretty much a given that technology has come a long way in the past 20 years or so and our level of technological sophistication is likely to continue to grow exponentially. Unless the current mix of religious extremism combined with an abundance of nuclear weapons doesn't blast us back to the stone age at some point. But that is filling for a different pie, as it were. What I'm talking about right now is a true Cyberpunk / The Matrix / Shadowrun / Johnny Mnemonic moment. A minor happening that the truly jaded technophiles among you will answer with a yawn and the computer illiterate with a shrug of incomprehension. Despite that, it was something that made me realize just how integrated tech has become in our lives compared to when I was a teenager. Trust me, folks, I was reading about stuff like this in science fiction novels back then and thinking how awesome it would be to be able to do stuff like that. Now it's freakin' *real*!

Ok, here's the story. I wandered into the lead programmer's office this morning to ask him his opinion on a programming issue. I found him on his hands and knees with his head stuck under his desk. "Dare I ask?" I asked once he had gotten back into his chair. He proceeded to explain that his school had given him a free 512 meg flash drive to keep his homework on (flash drives are solid state data storage devices about the size of a keychain, for those unfamiliar with them) and he was having trouble getting his work computer to read the silly thing. I offered the opinion that his USB port might be screwed up, so we took my 2 gig flash drive and tested the theory. Nope, mine worked. We decided to test his drive on my computer, so I took both back to my desk and plugged his in. Lo and behold, the data files popped right up, so it must have been a matter of his drive and computer having a spat. I have two frontal USB ports on my PC, so I took my flash drive, plugged it in next to his, and copied all his files (there weren't that many) to mine. I took them both back and he copied his stuff off my drive to his computer. Presto! Problem solved.

While this doesn't seem like a big deal, think about the fact that I only sat at my computer for about a minute, that both flash drives put together are about the size of a Hot Wheels car and that they have become so cheap that his school was giving them away just to make students' lives easier. Not to mention the sheer cool factor of being able whip this black, shiny, thumb-sized gadget out of your pocket, snap the USB connector out like you were R2-D2 about to hack into the Death Star computer, and saving the day with James Bond-like
panache. Q would of been so proud! (Q the old Bond gadgeteer, not Q the near-omnipotent Star Trek entity. The latter would probably just giggle and turn me into a Klingon ghargh worm for wasting his time.)

One can only marvel at the ingenuity of a bunch of furless talking monkeys. What wonders will our clever primate brains come up with next?

As the Crow Flies

A crow flew over my house this morning while I was leaving for work. The little devil had a morsel of food in his beak and his glossy feathers shone like polished obsidian in the slanting rays of the newly risen sun. Some people consider crows a bad omen, but not me. Quite the opposite, I hold them in high regard and to have one fly overhead with his hard-won breakfast in his mouth could be considered a sign of impending prosperity. It's all in how you look at it, I suppose. But at that moment, as I watched him soar through the rich golden sunlight, I wasn't thinking in terms of omens, good or bad. I could only think what a lucky creature he was to have found such a feast, to have wings and a beautiful azure sky as a playground. Share some of your good fortune, little cousin, I thought. And while crows aren't the most magnanimous of creatures, he seemed to acknowledge my plea with the slightest nod of his black-feathered head as he flew away. Even though I knew it was silly, I felt a sense of precognition as I turned my attention back to events on the ground. We can tell ourselves we don't buy any of that superstitious nonsense about portents and signs, but our hearts don't listen to logic. I can't help feeling that maybe, like that fortunate crow, we are due for a little luck.

The Reason for the Season

I ran into an interesting quote the other day.

"Organized religion is the Wal-martization of spirituality."

While I tend to agree with the general gist of this statement, that isn't what I wanted to focus on here. What seems even more interesting to me is the fact that the made up term "Wal-martization" is not only immediately recognizable, but also highly relevant in today's society. Let's look at the difference in how we treat our winter holiday today, compared to the hunter-gatherer cultures of northern Europe circa several thousand years ago.

Then: surviving the winter was uncertain
Now: will my team survive the playoffs?

Then: pray to the Gods you have enough food to last the winter
Now: pray to Jesus that your parents get you a Nintendo Wii

Then: hunting was poor, you have offended the Gods
Now: no Nativity scene on government property! You've offended the Right. Cashier says Merry Christmas! You've offended the Left.

The effects of Wal-martization are evident. It isn't just a focus on material things, although that is part of it. It's the fact that the Winter season is no longer a threat to our basic survival here in the industrialized West. In the absence of having to worry about important issues like not freezing to death, we are free to turn our attention to smaller matters, like who should God send to the Super Bowl.

Case in point, most of us put up a Christmas tree every year. This is a fine tradition that most likely started as a way to make offerings to the Gods by hanging shiny treasures on living evergreens. However, these days the ornaments and fake trees go on sale in September and putting up cheerful decorations can turn into a neighborhood pissing contest. Holiday feasts, so important to our ancestors, are just an excuse for us to fall off our diets or a reason to bitch and moan about having to eat things we don't like because Aunt Gertrude cooked up her infamous lima bean casserole just for us and we wouldn't want to insult the rich old bat, right?

The Wal-martization of our culture cheapens not only our spirituality, but our empathy for others, our ability to appreciate what we have, our bonds with family and friends (our clans, if you will) and our reverence for Nature and our place in it.

Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate being safe and warm and well-fed through the cold Winter months. And I wouldn't object too strongly if some kind soul decided to get me a Wii (Jesus, are you listening?). I'm just wondering if perhaps the price for those things is to forget the hardships and struggles our ancestors had to go through to get us to this point. If we do that, then even the smallest issue will seem like an insurmountable hurdle to future generations and pettiness, bickering and callousness will rule us all. Or maybe they already do.

The Tao of D. Adams

'This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays..." - Arthur Dent, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Hooray, it's Monday!

Mondays are always tough, but coming back to work after a long holiday weekend is even harder. Especially when your holiday weekend consisted of running hither and yon to visit people, running long overdue errands, doing long overdue housework, getting your proverbial ass shot off at paintball for the first time ever, driving 8 hours to pick up your kid from her other parent, dropping in on another group's rapier practice and getting stabbed more than is reasonably justified, etc. All in all, a fun, frustrating, frenzied, fantastic, f**ked up four days. And the next couple of weekends, while shorter, are looking to be just as brutal. I'm developing a love/hate relationship with weekends. I mean, its great to be off work and all, but when your weekend activities require more effort than your job does... well, at least it keeps life from getting boring, right? 'Cause boredom is so much worse than aching joints, bruises, sore muscles and bone-deep exhaustion. Sure it is.

On a different note, I'd like to say thank you to all those people who hosted us, visited us, shot us, stabbed us, were stabbed by us and otherwise made our holiday weekend memorable in a variety of ways. You guys (and girls) rock!

Happy Turkey Massacre Day

Hope everyone had good food, good company, and plenty of time to sleep it all off. While I may not agree with the common grade school concept of happy, cartoonish Native Americans and Pilgrims breaking bread together and everyone living happily ever after, I do agree with the concept of expressing gratitude. So, to the Great Earth Mother and Father Sky I give my deepest thanks for the bounty They offer. To those persons who have offered support and friendship to us over the years, I offer my sincere respect and well-wishes. You are truly appreciated. May you have plenty of reasons to be grateful not only on Thanksgiving Day, but all year 'round.

Good TV, Bad TV

I don't generally watch a lot of tv anymore. The reasons are many, but it all boils down to two things: lack of time and lack of quality shows. Reality tv has reduced most channels to clearinghouses of retarded drek that cater exclusively to the lowest common denominator of society (Hello, Billy Joe Lowbrow) . As a result, we tend to go out and buy (on DVD or iTunes) the shining gems that are actually worth watching. Recently, it's been Babylon 5. We're just about done with the first season and it amazes me how intricate and well-constructed the storyline is. They cleverly plant the seeds in Season One for things that will shake the foundations of the Universe in Season Five. Now that's good tv! Some other small screen diamonds are Firefly and the Dresden Files. Both shows were excellent and yet were doomed to cancellation after only one season. Apparently, they weren't dumbed down enough for the unwashed masses. A couple of series that I haven't really managed to get into yet are the new Battlestar Galactica and Heroes. I wanted to like the new BG, but memories of the original series got in the way. As for Heroes, it's more a time issue. I might snag the first season on iTunes and watch it that way. It sounds intriguing.

through the grey

This morning I woke up to a day of unrealized light. My first look outside revealed iron clouds hovering low over barren trees that wept for the loss of the sun. A world shrouded in melancholy that waited patiently for me to leave the secure confines of my home so that it could absorb me into its unmitigated bleakness. It is a place I know well, though, and I don't fear it. The bitter tears falling from the trees make a subtle symphony to my ears. The iron clouds reveal patterns of great beauty to those who take the time to look. A grey dawn, but not one devoid of promise. After all, our lives can't be all sunshine and bright colors. It's mornings like this that make the sun more welcome, the blooming flowers more vivid. Not only that, but it gives us a chance to dwell on feelings too fragile to survive the harsh glare of the sun and perhaps too frightening to call up in the full darkness of night. Wrapped up in the dim cocoon of sheltering half-light, however, we are free to cross over into realms that must otherwise remain hidden. Of course, given a choice I'd rather crawl back into bed and sleep for a few more hours.

Smile... you're screwed!

I'm home from work today. The reason? My youngest tripped on a rug at school Monday and chipped a tooth. A permanent tooth, not a baby tooth, of course. So, today is her first visit to a dentist for something serious. We just got back, actually. She did remarkably well, for her age. I'm very proud of her for that. Not so happy that it had to be done in the first place. I've informed her that this should be a lesson to her to not be so careless in the future. Maybe it will sink in, maybe it won't. But, that isn't the part that really bites my butt. What makes me feel like I've dropped the soap in a bad prison movie is the conversation that I had with the school this morning. Keep in mind that I haven't actually talked to the main man in charge of "risk management" for the school system (he was at a conference until Monday), so maybe I'm ranting needlessly here, but according to his assistant (or whoever she was), the school doesn't have any liability for such things unless they were "negligent" in some way. So basically, what they are telling me so far is that I am required by law to put my child in their care for 8 hours a day and they take no responsibility for her safety and welfare. Hmmmm.... what's wrong with this picture? While she's in *my* care, I'm certainly held responsible for any little thing that might cause her harm. I mean, Gods forbid that I let her so much as get a suspicious bruise. But the government, who insist that I turn her over to them as surrogate "parents", refuses to be held to the same standard. Her tooth was chipped while in their care, regardless of how or why it happened. But can we expect any accountability on their part? Most likely not. And these are the people that are supposed to be such fine examples of honor and responsibility to my child? Now don't get me wrong. Teaching her such things is something that falls more on me than anyone else. I accept that. But in taking on the role of mentors, if even partially, the system should freely accept the burden that such a role implies. But they don't. Instead, they employ blood-sucking laywers to weasel them out of having to have anything remotely resembling honor. The sad thing is that our society not only encourages, but admires and emulates such behavior. We consider it a worthwhile skill to be able to successfully push blame onto others. How sad.

We call it home

Behold, the insignificance of Man! Our whole world is but a tiny blue marble floating through the infinite darkness of space.

http://www.space.com/php/multimedia/imagedisplay/img_display.php?pic=071113-earth-rise-02.jpg&cap=Earth-rise%3A+In+the+image%2C+made+from+a+moving+image+taken+onboard+the+Kaguya+spacecraft%2C+a+region+of+the+moon%27s+surface+near+its+north+pole+is+shown.+The+Arabian+Peninsula+and+Indian+Ocean+can+be+observed+on+the+Earth.+Credit%3A+JAXA%2FNHK

(sorry for the massive link)

Fighter's Collegium - the Aftermath

Well, we survived. Despite the 6 hour drive (each way). Despite freezing our butts off in unheated cabins both nights. Despite losing the Queen's Ring to Lord Hawk. Even despite the vegetables being hurled at my lady wife by the Dark Pelican of the Apocalypse. We survived to return home, we weary travellers. To be honest, the good outweighed the bad. We got to see people we haven't seen in a while. The classes were enlightening and went off more or less on schedule. I had some fun fights and managed to pull off several victories defending the Queen's Ring before Hawk took it. I don't mind losing to Hawk. He's scary good. My melee class was well received (I hope) and everyone seemed to be having fun with the practice melees we ran at the end. Ysabel managed to take the Precious (the Iron Ring of Meridies, which is different from the Queen's Ring) from Lord Sigurd. Considering she can't fight with her right hand at the moment, they agreed to fight left handed to the first 5 touches. They were both at 4 each and doubled on the 5th, so a tie-breaker was fought and Ysabel got the touch. Very impressive. As for my fighting, I was a little disappointed in myself. I never feel like I'm good enough, of course, but lately that feeling has deepened. Control is paramount and I've been too busy with mundane concerns to devote the proper amount of time to honing my control. Even when I win a fight, if I don't feel my fighting was clean enough, it bothers me. Winning isn't about beating my opponent (no matter how skilled or unskilled they are). It's about achieving mastery over myself. It's time to get back into fighting trim again. Time to practice daily, like I should be. I know that our hectic lifestyle is not conducive to that, but the attempt must be made. When I take the field, I will be in control. Period.

On the road again

Tonight we leave for Fighter's Collegium, an SCA event occuring somewhere southeast of Atlanta, GA. It's a 5-6 hour drive. Can't leave until we all get home from work/school, which may well have us getting there around 2 in the morning. Once there, we have to unload all our stuff, set up beds (the cabins at this site don't come with bunks... or heat) and try to sleep enough to function when we get up in the morning. Did I mention that we have to be up around 7am to get the rapier field set up? Sometimes I wonder why we keep doing this stuff. Then I remember a quote (from a Magic: the Gathering card, oddly enough) that would explain it.

Battle doesn't need a purpose; the battle is its own purpose. You don't ask why a plague spreads or a field burns. Don't ask why I fight.

Pretty simple answer.

(A cookie to anyone that can name the card that came from.)

Fangasm!

Ok, so it might totally suck. It might be the most horrific piece of festering dog crap ever committed to film. But it's here! Dragonlance: the Movie! Fantasy geeks rejoice! Or cower in fear of the hazing you are going to get if this straight-to-DVD turkey completely bombs. You know you are going to watch it, come what may.

http://www.dragonlance-movie.com/news/show_news.asp?id=21

Hey, think of it this way, the first Lord of the Rings movie ever made was a badly animated children's feature, too. Maybe in time, someone will do a live-action, big budget version of the Dragonlance Chronicles that doesn't completely blow goats.

Space... the final frontier

In lieu of anything more interesting to say, I'll just post this:

http://www.space.com/scienceastronomy/071106-five-planets.html

For some reason, I find the idea of finding another "earth" deeply intriguing. How will it effect mankind to know that we are, indeed, not alone in the universe? What would it be like to stand on alien soil and look up into a sky not our own?

Flashback!

Sherman, set the Wayback Machine for 1969! For those of you who don't understand that reference, you are obviously uncultured cretins and unworthy of attention. Kidding! Seriously, look it up. I bring this up because I had an odd time travel moment last night. I was driving home from work and as I passed the police station in the small town where I reside, I noticed a bunch of protesters vigorously lambasting passers-by (of which I was one, obviously) with some deeply held conviction or other. Upon closer inspection of the signage, it would seem they were attempting to "save the nature park". How very 1960's! Go Hippies! I must say, I was tempted to stop and offer them a spirited "RIGHT ON, BROTHER!". However, this being the year 2007, I quickly found my callous, apathetic center and continued on in subdued silence. Upon arriving home, my teenage step-daughter informed me that she had heard of the protest and that it was due to plans by the city to bulldoze the local park and build a Kroger grocery store there. Apparently the small Food Lion on the corner isn't enough. Keep in mind that there are not one, but two Kroger stores less than 20 minutes away. She also informed me that some of her friends from school were most likely involved in the protest. Now, despite my aforementioned callousness and apathy, I felt an unusual sense of outrage at the thought of losing a nature park to a bunch of corporate jackals. So I offered to take my step-daughter up there to join the passionate tree huggers in their noble fight. I was feeling a sense of purpose breaking through my normal wall of cynical self-absorption. Why not protest an obvious wrong? Why not fight for what was right, instead of what was easy and profitable? Why not STICK IT to the MAN!! Then my step-daughter says something to the effect of "No thanks, I'm on the computer right now." And it hit me. It wasn't the 1960's. The protesters weren't a bunch of free-lovin' flower children. It was 2007 and they were a mix of bored suburbanite moms and emo kids. The park is most likely doomed. Sacrificed to the spirit of convenience and greed. So long natural beauty, hello 2-for-1 specials on the snack aisle. Progress marches on, trampling roughshod over green pastures and wide-eyed idealists alike. Welcome to the 21st century. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Do I offend?

Something offended me today. I know what you are thinking. You're thinking, "Corbin, you? Offended? Surely you have thicker skin than that. Surely you are tolerant and understanding of your fellow man and would never think of raising a stink over someone else exercising their First Amendment right to freedom of expression. Surely not you!" Ok, so maybe you aren't thinking that, but you should be. Because it most certainly is out of character for me, what with my normally laid back, live-and-let-live attitude. So what could it be that has ruffled my black, shiny feathers so? Well, I'll tell you. I'm offended at everyone being so bloody offended! Take Halloween for instance. Fundimentalist (and I stress the word "mental") Christians are offended because it's "evil" and "Satanic". Fundimentalist (same emphasis there) Wiccans are offended at the negative connotations of the witch caricatures floating around as decorations. Even black people (I refuse to call them African-American. Unless they have dual citizenship.) have found a reason to be offended at the use of nooses in macabre Halloween displays. Everyone is so busy being offended that they have completely forgotten what it is like to just chill the hell out and have fun. But, I have a solution. Yes, folks, Uncle Corbin has the answer to all your Political Correctness woes. Dueling! You heard me right. Used to be, when someone offended your frail sensibilities, you walked up to them and challenged them to a dance of steel. Screw lawsuits and stupid protesting. If you feel that strongly about something, then you should be willing to put up or shut up. Rapiers at dawn, I say! If formal duels to the death were used to settle such disputes, I'm betting people would suddenly be a lot less thin-skinned. You don't like my Halloween decorations? Draw your blade and we'll see who's right and who's dead! Maybe I'll even add you to the display once I'm done carving you up like a pumpkin. What? You've changed your mind? Go figure...

Face it, whiny-ass thought police are running rampant in our "enlightened" culture these days. And that is truly offensive.

Disclaimer: I honestly don't have a problem with Christians (married one), Pagans (am one), or black people (friends with several). I do have a problem with willful ignorance and aggressive stupidity, regardless of the source. If that offends you, tough.

The Nyquil Effect

Yesterday: feeling icky
Last night: took two Nyquil caplets, passed out
This morning: zzzzz..... huh? Wuzzat? Up? ... zzzz... 'k, I'm up....zzzzz....
This afternoon: at the sound of my forehead hitting the keyboard the time will be 3:15pm >thud!<

Thank you, Captain Jack Sparrow

Pirates. Those swashbucklin', grog drinkin' scallywags are all the rage right now. Men and women have a plethora of cheap piratical costumes to choose from for Halloween, complete with plastic cutlasses and fake parrots. Everywhere you look, thar be pirates. Now don't get me wrong, I've been a fan of pirates for a long time. You might say I was pirate when pirate wasn't cool. My garb for the SCA (historical reenactment, remember) has a distinctly nautical slant. Hence my problem. I could, if I chose, throw on my best piratical get up and go out on Halloween night with our kids. Surely I'd put to shame all those Wal-mart wannabe swabbies with their nylon tights and poorly constructed tri-corn hats. Trust me, folks, I can do pirate with the best of 'em. But... what's the point? I mean, I do that all year 'round. Halloween is for dressing up as something you *aren't*. Right? And even though I'm an adult, I still get a child-like sense of joy in playing pretend. That's probably what started me off doing historical dress up in the first place. But it's gotten to the point where it isn't pretend anymore for me to walk around in my swashbuckler outfits. Being a rapier fighter isn't simply something I do now. It's part of who and what I am. No fun to do that on Halloween, even if I can show up the ignorant, cheeseball, mainstream "look-at-me-I'm-a-pirate" crowd. It's seriously sucked all the fun out of the secular side of the holiday. Maybe we'll just take the kids around (adults in street clothes) and then I'll go home for a quiet, private bit of meditation for Samhain. But my inner child will regret not getting to dress as a zombie, or a devil, or something outlandish that isn't part of my normal activities. Dressing up or not, though, I do reserve the right to point and laugh at the adults that wear the pitiful store-bought pirate get ups. I gotta have some fun, after all.

Internet Exploder

I don't usually talk about my job, because quite frankly it's about as exciting as a Narcoleptics Convention. On a Monday night. In Des Moines, Iowa. Today, however, I'm going to make a small exception because I want to express how deeply and completely Internet Explorer, that lovely Microsoft product, SUCKS! I've been working with a little thing called Ajax, which uses a combination of Javascript and (in our case) CFML to produce some nifty browser updating effects. And it works beautifully... in Firefox. In IE, well, not so much. Why is it that the most advanced (supposedly) computer software company in the world can't get their collective heads out of their butts long enough to ensure browser compatibility with the latest web technologies? Bleargh!! Bleargh, I say!!!

Pics of Doom!

As promised, pics from Unchained Doom

Here's me (on the right) getting ready to fight Lord Thomas. He's really tall...

And here's my Lady, Ysabel, fighting Lord Ricart Halcon (better known as Hawk).

rain, rain go away

"God is in the rain." So sayeth Evie in the V for Vendetta movie. For her, the rain was cleansing, washing away the lingering stink of torture and madness. For me... not so much. The dark, forbidding skies do little but bring a sense of hopelessness. The ceaseless patter of rain makes me numb and lethargic. There may be a god in the rain, but it's a god of despair and apathy, not the miraculous, life-affirming god of Evie Hammond. "We need the rain." How often do you hear that phrase? Sure we do. Rationally, I know that. It fills the world with green growing things that give us food and oxygen. But there's something deep down in our primal selves, something not rational at all, that is touched by rainy autumn days. A shadowy reflection of ourselves that acknowledges the inherent futility of life and imminence of death. It presses down on us with the weight of our regrets and taunts us with our fear of an uncertain future. Or maybe I'm just irritated that I have to drive an hour each way to work and the rain makes people drive like morons around here.

doom, Doom, DOOM!

Unchained Doom! That's what we experienced this past weekend. It's an event put on by an SCA group down south of us and it was a blast. Granted the three hour drive blew chunks, but holy crap was there a lot of good fightin'. The feast they served was second to none, too. Fair skies, fine friends, flashing blades and a full tummy make Corbin a happy little brigand. Now for the downside. I *hurt*! Not only did we fight all day Saturday, but we came home and held our regularly scheduled rapier practice on Sunday, too. Two solid days of sword swinging. This after being mostly inactive for a couple months for various reasons. My body doesn't deserve this kind of abuse, but I'm cruel like that.

Here's a bit of irony for you. At an event called "Unchained Doom" the weather was so sunny and warm it would make a vampire slather on 1,000,000 s.p.f. sunblock and take a noontime stroll. Now that it's over and we are back to the "real" world? Dark clouds and chill rain. The kind of rain that, while not always heavy, manages to seep into your very bones. You can feel its clammy, oppressive fingers on the back of your neck even when you are indoors. Great way to start the work week. Blah.

Got some pictures at Doom. I'll post up a couple of the better ones when I get time.

To sleep, perchance to dream...

Ah, Shakespeare! You have to love a guy that gives us such great lines to use for post titles. He's as relevant today as he was in the 1500's. Case in point, I hate waking up to the strident tones of my cell phone alarm (yes, I use it as an alarm clock) when I'm right in the middle of REM sleep. Never fails to make me cranky. But, that was hours ago and the urge to go kick a puppy has faded to a sort of low level funk. Work isn't helping, since I ran out of constructive things to do right before lunch. So, I sit and I think and I wait for quittin' time. Thank goodness for the Internet, sublime time waster that it is. I can't help but wonder what Shakespeare would have done with such a tool at his disposal. He would probably waste all his time writing on his blog...

My First Blog Entry

Ok, so I've started a blog. I admit to feeling a bit left out of the current "look-at-me" culture. I hope to strike a comfortable middle ground between paranoid desert hermit and narcissitic attention whore. We'll see how that goes.

So, if you are still reading, I will assume some level of interest in yours truly. Let me illuminate the shadows of mystery for you, at least a tiny bit. I am called by several names (some not so flattering). To most, I am Corbin, which has its roots in the French "corbeau" and the Latin "corvus". It means "crow" or "raven". This is not an accident, as I have a great deal of love for those particular birds, both in an aesthetic sense and as powerful mythological symbols. Perhaps I will expand on their significance in a future post. I am heavily involved in the SCA, a large historical reenactment group. Within the Society, I have attained the rank of Lord as well as being a member of the highest level rapier fighting Order in my Kingdom. I am married to a wonderful woman who is a Lady and also a member of the same rapier Order (She's good, folks. Really good.). We have three children who keep us busy with school and an assortment of extra-curricular interests. Needless to say, our free time is not an abundant resource. My job is a means to an end and not particularly exciting, so I'll simply say I work on the Internet and leave it at that. I have a love of fantasy and science fiction, in pretty much any medium, but especially in written form. I've played role-playing games (mostly Dungeons and Dragons) since I was 10 years old. Yes, I'm a nerd, or geek, or whatever the current in vogue term is. But I'm also a father, a husband, a worker, a martial artist, a tax payer, a voter, a home owner, etc. In short, just another sentient carbon-based life form trying to make it in an unforgiving world, just like you. And since this is rapidly edging into "attention whore" territory, I think that is enough for now.

Adieu, mes amis.