Pity The Decrepit

Since there aren't many activities more egocentric than posting one's musings on the web for all the world to see, pray allow me to take this opportunity to regale y'all with a song:

Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy biiiiirthday dear Marius
Happy birthday to yooooooooooou

Thank you.

A Clarification

Welcome to a slightly less angry Corner. I have been asked if I intend to cease my watching of pro football in light of my last rant. It was a fair question, and the answer is no. And lest I seem the hypocrite, pray allow me to elucidate.
I do not have a problem with pro sports. They are as valid a form of entertainment as any other is. Football happens to be the only one that interests me, but I understand the appeal of others. Nor do I particularly object to collegiate athletics. Where my problem lies is when the latter is treated as the former. I object to the completely unreasonable imbalance, mainly financial, between sports and academia in the collegiate setting. I realize that at many schools the football and basketball teams bring a staggering amount of revenue to the school, but such is not the case at LC. And I won’t even get into the widespread pressure put on teachers to make sure their star athletes get good grades, regardless of their scholastic performance. (and yes, I have seen this even at FAU)
Both of my degrees came from Florida Atlantic University, but when the school announced that they were adding a football program suddenly there was talk that FAU would finally be ‘on the map’. The first football coach was given an enormous salary, and a car, at the same time our Theatre Dept. had to let the pregnant office assistant go because we didn’t have the money to pay her. When an institution as financially troubled as LC can field 10 people on the football coaching staff, but can’t find the meager amount of money I have been making for the last three years to keep someone in the theatre it disgusts and infuriates me. But that’s ok. The administration will learn fairly quickly how well things work in the auditorium, where chapels and graduations and various other events take place, without anyone knowledgeable around to work the equipment. Our maintenance people are very good at fixing a door, or replacing a blown circuit breaker, but they don’t know thing one about a wireless microphone.
And I’ll be too far away to help.

Why Do We Let The Clowns Run The Circus?

Hi Folks,
Sorry it's been a couple of days, but I've been too angry to rant. I know that seems contradictory, but I have been trying to keep these things entertaining, and what's pissing me off now is anything but. The administration at LC announced to our Artistic Director that they have no intention of replacing me when I leave. They have essentially said that having a viable, growing theatre program is not a priority at Louisiana College. These narrow minded, tunnel-visioned, bean counting theocrats see no problem with keeping 4 baseball coaches, 3 soccer coaches, and TEN FUCKING FOOTBALL COACHES!!!!!!!!!, but keeping one Technical Director on staff will break the school. I am so sick of the priority sports get at so called institutions of higher education I could puke! The Humanities have been around far longer than any organized sport, yet they are constantly labeled as insignificant, or irrelevant. Just because these provincial, backwoods-raised suits find that Shakespeare challenges their breakfast-cereal-box level of comprehension, they relegate the arts to the 'if we can afford it' pile, and then spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on private buses, travel, and an enormous coaching staff. And the argument 'football brings in more revenue than theatre' doesn't work here at dear old LC, because the football team's record isn't very good, and if it weren't for the free student tickets, the high school stadium in which they play would be 'filled' with approximately 50 family members and a dozen or so ancient alumni per game! Give me a fucking break!!!!!!!

So, the next time anyone in Cenla complains that the state of Theatre in the South isn't all that great, you can always remind them that at least Louisiana College has a mediocre football team. Go cats.

Marius

A Kinder, Gentler Blog

Hello, Dear Ones,
One of my dearest friends has, rightfully, pointed out that there is much anger in this blog, and she was worried about me. So I will try to be more positive in this entry.

Let's see, how about puppies. That's a good topic. Puppies are soooo cute and cuddly, and adorable, and their little faces are just so sweet, and puppy kisses are the best. In fact there isn't a bad thing to say about puppies...unless you live in a house owned by facist assholes who won't let you keep a pet inside for fear that they might piss on something and ruin the one brief glimmer of joy in an otherwise black and pointless life, so you have to explain to your 7 year old daughter why the puppy she was promised had to wait and now you feel like total shit and you just want to die, except the cheap-assed school you work for won't spring for life insurance, so it costs more to die than it does to fucking live! FUCKING PUPPIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oops...um...sorry, Deb. I guess this place just kinda messes with your head a bit.


;-)

Love and puppies, Gentle Readers,
Marius

Mushy Stuff cont.(cont.)

Tink: You have come to mean so much more than just a student to me. I will always remember the day, nay the moment we met. I recognized you immediately from your brother's description. You then went on to prove yourself at first to be a willing, then useful, and finally indispensable assistant. You more than make up for your lack of experience with a total dedication to obliterating that lack. Your energy, even at the god-awful times I make you get up, is boundless and infectious. You are the kind of person I would have hung out with had we been in the same class, and I am pleased to call you friend and water brother.(and when you ask me what that means I'll know you read this.) There will always be a place for you in my heart, and a sofa/futon/guest room(depending on my future living arrangements) in my home. Peace out, amiga, and thanks for the smokes and party favors.

Tammy: The worst part of this move is that we won't be working together anymore. That is completely unacceptable, and I don't intend for it to be permanent. You are the most dedicated theatrical artist I have ever had the honor of working with, as well as a caring, loving, giving, and various other 'ings' person. Your faith in me has always inspired me to work harder(although I know sometimes it might not have seemed like that), as has your incredible talent for pulling good performances out of mediocre students, and great performances out of good ones. I am furious that circumstances force us apart, but I intend to keep very much in touch, and watch for any opportunity to work with you again. I love you, my friend, and I will miss you terribly..

Gay Marriage...So What?!

Welcome to The Corner, Gentle Readers,

For three years I have been trapped here in the center of one of the reddest of red states, surrounded by closed-minded theocrats who are so uptight that Osama Bin Laden would tell them to chill out, and I still don't understand why conservatives care about gay marriage. I know that biblically homosexuality is verboten, but so is working on Sunday and eating a cheeseburger, and you don't see any attempts to amend the constitution to outlaw Mcdonald's on the weekends. I also seem to recall a veritable plethora of things that ticked The Savior(tm) off that have yet to find their way to the ballot boxes. There was also that little thing about 'judge not lest you be judged yourself'. So what's so special about gay marriage?

As a theatre professional I have many gay friends on both sides of the gender fence, and the one thing I have noticed about gay relationships is that they tend to last much longer than straight ones. Perhaps it's the atmosphere of oppression, or the smaller dating pool, but most of the gay couples I know have been together, without the benefit of a legalized recognition of the union, for years. About the only downside to gay couples I have seen is that on the rare occasion of a bad break-up, they do have a tendency to beat the living crap out of each other. (my totally unscientific theory on that is that men and women are raised to not physically attack each other, but members of our own genders are fair game)

The only thing I can figure about why conservatives fear gay marriage is just that...fear. I have seen huge guys act like scared 5-year-old girls when they realize someone is gay. I have heard such witty and considered commentary as, "If that fag touches me I'll knock his lights out!". It's like these idiots think that homosexuality is some sort of pathogen that can be passed on like the flu. Every year it becomes clearer, through genetic and neurological research, that homosexuality is no more an aberration than left-handedness. High profile theologians like to say that being gay is a choice. I have to wonder just how many gay people they have actually spoken with. I think I can say, with a high degree of certainty, that if choice were the issue very few homosexuals would choose to be discriminated against, oppressed, physically abused, and ridiculed just because of who they love. Sure, there is a very small, very visual minority of the gay community who do their best to piss off the straights, but then there is a very small, very visual minority of evangelists who do their best to piss off the world.(the Louisiana College Board of Trustees, for example) It's time that the Bible thumpers started reading the whole Book, instead of just the passages that support their own particular agendas. Live and let live, and leave the judging to God.

Ok, Now I'm Mad

Well, this morning's state of bliss didn't last...what a shock. I was reminded today about a class of people who should have their own special room in Hell...I'm talking, of course, of those inconsiderate assholes who leave shopping carts in the middle of parking spaces. It's bad enough to have to deal with SUV driving idiots who won't put down the damn cell phone long enough to squeeze their own personal Panzer division properly between the yellow lines, but to get teased into thinking you have found a great parking spot just one away from the handicapped armada, only to find that some lazy-assed nitwit has left their fucking cart dead center. And what's worse is that there is usually one of those cart corralls mere steps away!! I have had to deal with the 'that doesn't mean me' mindset(not that any of these micro-cephallic meat-puppets have much of a mind to speak of) ever since my two years of purgatory I like to call my Taco Viva years back in the early '80's, and the longer I have to put up with it, the madder I get. And it's not only in the service industry that we have to deal with this. You can put up as many 'The Lobby Doors Will Open At 7:30" signs as you want in front of your theatre, and there will still be some tiny-brained imbecile with a sense of entitlement as wide as the ass of their lime-green Sans-A-Belts banging on the glass at 6:50 demanding to come in.
It seems to me that the world is getting dumber, and ruder, and I don't know what to do. As technology, and with it our understanding of the universe, grows, it seems to me that the average human brain atrophies. Before too long the few of us who remember how to read and think will be surrounded by a hoard of drooling, mouth-breathing pinheads who think they are cultured because they just bought The Rock's new book on CD so they can listen to it as they cruise around in their computerized land-yachts, and blame everyone from The Government to Michael Moore for their problems. I urge any of you who can still read to go out and pick up a copy of Farenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury. He's not my favorite author, but he seems to be frighteningly prophetic in this book.
And now if you'll excuse me I'm going to sharpen my keys and head for the grocery store.

Marius

We Have A Winner!!

Greetings, Gentle Readers, and welcome back to The Corner. I took a day off yesterday to wait in rapt anticipation to see if the smoke was black or white. And lo, the billowing tell-tale of cumbustion was...white! Hosanna! The woods are on fire again! Actually I don't know what was burning just over the horizon yesterday, but it looked big.

What, you thought I was talking about something else?

Oh, right. The Pope thing. um...whoo hoo. All I really have to say about that is maybe having a German Pope might just get all those out of control priests in line. If there is one thing the Germans are good at, it's discipline. And I'm really glad he changed his name. Pope Ratzinger I just doesn't 'pop'. Benedict XVI, now there's a pope name. Plus now every morning someone will be able to say, 'Here are your eggs, Benedict.' and then giggle maniacally.

Ok, you're on to me. I really don't have much to say today. Sorry this one kinda sucks. I'll try to get pissed about something for tomrrow, I promise.

Marius

Who's Fault?

"In the crowd of pain
St. Jimmy comes without any shame
he says we're fucked up but we're not the same
and mom and dad are the ones you can blame"
Green Day: American Idiot

Yesternight my wife told me an interesting tale. We were watching a video game review show and the game in question was particularly violent. She turned to me and related that that very afternoon she had refused to sell a minor an ultra-violent racing game. The child returned a short time later with an adult, presumably a parent, who then purchased the game for the little rascal. I wish I could say this is the first time I had heard of/experienced something like that. I once went to see a very, very graphic, R rated movie involving sharks and their human chums(heh heh), and the theatre seemed like a day care center. Parents had brought everything from infants in baskets, to 8 year-olds running all over the place. And this was an evening show, not a matinee.

It's scenes like these that make me cringe when I hear people, especially politicians running for reelection, charge that Hollywood, or the Playstation, or some other outside agency is making our children more violent. To that I say a resounding BULLSHIT!! If more parents viewed their children as human beings who need to be lead by example, rather than as minor inconveniences to be fobbed off on whatever activity will keep their attention, then perhaps fictional images wouldn't have such an impact. Children learn the most from the people they see the most, and people on TV and in video games are as real to a child as their parents. There is nothing wrong with letting children play games, or watch TV, but parents must take an active role in the choices children make, starting with saying no more often.

Marius

Huh?

Ok, I knew that as a parent the day would come when I would have to tell my daughter "Turn that damned noise down!" What I didn't expect was that a) that day would come so soon(she's only 7) and b) that the 'damned noise' is QVC! I just had to ask her to close the door to her room because the sound of them selling fake floral garlands was driving me nuts. And she has also in the recent past yelled at me for playing Green Day too loudly in the car. I keep expecting to see Rod Serling hovering around outside my house any day now. Normally warped realities are pretty cool, but this has me baffled. But just to be safe I'm locking up my credit cards tonight!

And Now a Bit of Wierdness

Greetings, Gentle Readers,
Over the course of my life I have written many short stories, poems, and various other bits of word salad. Most of it is crap, but not all. What follows was, believe it or not, not alcohol(or anything else) induced. I hope you like it.
Marius

The long, low, drawn out wail cut through the night like a laser beam through warm brie. The boy failed to repress a shiver at the inhuman call.
“What d’yer suppose that be?”
The old timer looked up from rolling a joint, and grinned a gap-toothed grin.
“Ain’t ye never heerd a manatee afore?”, He rasped.
“Nope.”, the kid replied. “Dint know them things made noise.”
The old man laughed, then coughed, then spat on the ground.
“Son, let me tell ye about ‘them things’. Used to be they dint jus’ stay in t’water. Oh sure, to see ‘em now, wallerin’ and floatin’, and such, ye’d think they’s born to do it. But t’weren’t always so.”
The old man leaned closer to the fire, releasing a noisome blast of flatulence as he did. The boy laughed.
“Pardon. Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Once, long ago, the Mickeysookee injuns what lived round here used to hunt the wild manatee. Only they dint do it with no bows n arrows. The killin of a manatee was sumpin that a boy did to become a man. They’d spend days findin a mean enough one out in the woods, then they’d tie saplings to the trees, sorta like a cage, so’s it couldn’t git away. Then they’d throw rocks, n stuff at it, t’ rile it up good and fierce like.”
The old timer paused to run the edge of the rolling paper over his leathery tongue, then he twisted the ends of the joint into points. He held the spleef up to the light of the fire, admiring its contours.
“Well!”, the boy barked impatiently.
“Well,” the man continued, “ this one particular boy, Hunkamunka they called ‘im, was a mean cuss. Dint none of the other boys would mess with young Hunkamunka. So when it came time for him to fight a manatee, the braves of the tribe took extra special care t’ find the biggest, meanest manatee in the woods. Then they spent two whole days more’n usual a’ pissin’ off the beast. Plus they dint feed the monster nuthin’ fer the whole time they was messin’ with it. Finally the day came fer Hunkamunka to fight the manatee. He stepped into the cage wearin’ nuthin but his skivvies, and carryin’ just a knife. The two went ‘round, and ‘round. The manatee dug huge ditches in the dirt with its claws, and bucked with its horns, but Hunkamunka weren’t skeered. He just ran in and cut off one horn, then t’other. The manatee howled with pain, and tore off Hunkamunka’s left arm. Now they was both pissed, and the fightin’ started fer real. Fer two days they fought, with neither one givin’ up. The noise was terrible, and a cloud of dust arose up, so’s no one could see a thing. Finally, there was a silence, like a graveyard at midnight, and out of the dust came a blood chillin howl. Slowly the dust settled, and there was Hunkamunka, standin next to the manatee. They was both alive, but in his one hand Hunkamunka had the manatees horns, and on the groud was its claws. It’s back legs was tied together, and its front ones looked like big flippers. Then Hunkamunka picked up the howling beast, and throwed it into the sea, five mile away.”
The old man pulled a stick out of the fire, and lighting the joint, took a long, slow drag. He held his breath, then let it out with a sigh of contentment. Then he opened his eyes to look at the boy.
“So, whenever ye hear that wail, that’s the manatees rememberin’ what they used to be.”
The boy seemed lost in thought for a moment, then spoke.
“Ye know what? I think yer full o shit, Uncle Zac!” And so saying, he ran back into the house.
“You have no idea.”, the old man said to himself, all trace of the provincial accent gone, “no idea at all.” And with a chuckle, he resumed his smoking.

Mushy Stuff cont.

Doug: I can't imagine how I could have retained any modicum of sanity while at LC without your constant bitching and crabbing. ;-) Your sense of humor is only slightly more twisted than my own, and you have helped me not get so mad at the insanity coming from Alexandria Hall. I sincerely hope you find your escape pod soon, and hopefully someday we can go for a dive together.

Natalie: I haven't taken a new member of my household in decades, and I am proud to have you in the family. You are in a rare category in my life, someone who gets along with both SCA and theatre folks. I hope your new living arrangement is as wonderful as you deserve/desire, and that we will meet again.

Saranysis: You definitely peg the cool meter. One thing I'm learning as a teacher is that students come and go, and often the names and faces fade fairly quickly, but I doubt I will ever forget you. You are talented, beautiful, and smart, and have a great sense of perspective, plus you actually dig some of the same music I do. ;-) Your future is going to be a lot of fun, and I earnestly hope we stay in touch.

Jessica: My first impression of you was 'gorgeous, but kinda spacy' 'cause you just hung back and didn't say much. I have rarely been so happy to be so wrong. You have grown so much over the last two years, and I'm honored to have been a small part of that. You have beautiful, loving heart, and wear your faith like a comfortable sweater. May God continue to guide you along your path in life.

to be continued:

Godzilla Distraught Over Chinese Protests

SHANGHAI, China _ Tens of thousands of Chinese protestors threw rocks at the Japanese consulate and several Japanese restaurants today, chanting "Japanese pigs get out!" We here at The Corner contacted the most famous Japanese celebrity we could think of to get his view of things. We reached Godzilla, or Zilla-G as he is known to his posse, at his palacial Malibu estate.

"Obviously I'm very upset about this whole thing," he said in-between rumrunners, "I mean I was planning to tour China next year. You know, the usual stuff; roar, roar, stomp, stomp, fry a few tanks with the nuclear breath; that sort of thing, but these protests are giving me second thoughts. Just look at the news. They're breaking all the good shit on their own. Sure, they aren't pulling down power lines or anything, but if they trash all the good Japanese restaurants where will I go for sushi after I defeat Mecha-Jiabao(China's primary genetically altered monster defense system)? If this keeps up for much longer I might just cancel the China thing and maybe head for North Korea instead. I understand Kim Jong Il transforms into a 200 foot tall robot with rockets and machine guns and shit. That would kick ass, plus I really like good kim-shee."

Zilla-G went on to express his regrets at the turn of events in China, and wishes them a speedy return to their normally peaceful ways. Then he'll be happy to come back and crush any city they wish...and maybe take in some of the famous Chinese opera.

King Ghidora, Rodan, and Mothra are currently touring with Death Of A Salesman, and could not be reached for comment.

Marius

Star Wars Episode III: Attack Of The Marketers

Ok, I understand that George Lucas is a genius when it comes to marketing. He had the foresight to keep the marketing rights to Star Wars, a concession that 20th Century Fox later came to regret, at a time when most cinema marketing consisted of the occasional Burger King collectible tumbler set and not much else, but I'm getting really sick of seeing Darth Vader on every other page of every magazine I pick up. I expect to see a glut of toys at K-mart, and the obligatory soft drink and fast food promotions, but Chewbacca as a cell phone ring tone? What next, Mon Mothma on Tampax boxes, Emperor Palpatine for Depends, C-3P0 for WD-40? How much fucking money does Lucas need!? This is the first Star Wars movie I've been psyched about since 1983, and I'm already getting sick of it. The only way this could be any more annoying is if the Industrial Light and Magic wizards were to digitally revive the 'Where's the beef' lady and put her in a commercial with Lando Calrissian hawking tofu burgers. ENOUGH ALREADY!!!!!!

This film promises to make those of us who felt betrayed by the mediocrity of episodes 1 and 2 happy to return to that 'galaxy far, far away', but if I see Lord Vader swiffering the Death Star, or Sand People taking off their bandages to use new Nutragena, I won't be as anxious to make the jump.

Of course, if John Deer wanted to use Jar Jar Binks to demonstrate their new line of wood chippers I might not be so opposed to this marketing blitz.

May the Force Be With You.

Darth Marius

Mushy Stuff

Welcome to the flowery, coffee shop section of The Corner. Here I begin a series dedicated to telling the people I have come to love here in Cenla just how much they mean to me. Yeah, it's a sappy, Hallmark Theatre kinda thing to do, but it's my blog, so if you don't like it fuck off. ;-)

There is no particular order to this, just a random list of those I'll miss.

Erin: You were one of my very first students, in the very first class I taught. I truly regret that I didn't realize how cool you are right then and there. All that time between your departure from LC and the Spectral Sisters 10 minute play festival I consider wasted friendship time. You are smart, talented, and a consumate professional, not to mention one of the hottest broads I've ever met. [ of course the implants help there.;-)] I sincerely hope that one day you manage to get the fuck out of this place, and get a job in a real theatre where they actually pay you to do that voodoo that you do so well. And trust me, I will be keeping my eyes open for just such opportunities for you.

Jobu: While I probably could have gotten things at LC whipped into shape without you, it would have taken twice as long, and I might be missing a few more body parts that I already am. Thank you for all your help over the last three years. I can't count the number of times you have come in and saved my ass, and the show, by helping when no one else would. I hope that my meager teachings will serve you in the future, and I also wish you a speedy, and lucrative escape from the cultural black hole. Bon chance, Patsy!! :-)

Darth Jennifer: I don't know you as well as I would like, but your wonderfully skewed view of the universe, not to mention utter devotion to the dark side of the Force, have made me greatly enjoy the brief times I have spent in your company. May you and Jobu have a long, happy, occasionally pissed-off future together! Darth Tater rules!!!!! Oh, and you can tell Roo that some stars are made of meat, especially Keanu Reeves and Brittany Spears. ;-)

Sam: At first you frustrated the shit out of me with your inability to speak in complete sentences, but either you got better at communicating, or I learned to speak Samese{probably a bit of both ;-)}. In any case I'm glad to finally understand most of what you say, and to call you friend. I wish you and Henry great things in the future. Pink Feather Boas forever!!

Kayce: Beautiful, talented, as sweet as the day is long, and with a skin tone that drove this lighting designer to drink even more heavily than normal. ;-) I truly miss seeing you on stage, and off. I have no doubt that great things are ahead for you, and I deeply hope that I will see you on stage or screen again before too long. Just a word of advise, if I may. You had better make a pile of money in your lifetime, because money is the dividing line between eccentric pet lover, and the crazy cat-lady at the end of the street. LaLa lives!!

Steve-o: I truly envy your ability as a writer. I am having so much fun directing Standing Still that a rehearsal has yet to go by without my laughing out loud several times. You have a gift for words, and music that is truly a blessing. And you play a mean game of cards as well. May The Force Be With You! :-)

to be continued...

Living Will

LIVING WILL

I, _________________________ (fill in the blank), being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.
Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of peckerwood ethically challenged politicians who couldn't pass ninth-grade biology if their lives depended on it.
If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to sit up and ask for a cold beer, it should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my spouse, children and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes and call it a day. Under no circumstances shall the hypocritical members of the Legislature (State or Federal) enact a special law to keep me on life-support machinery. It is my wish that these boneheads mind their own damn business, and pay attention instead to the health, education and future of the millions of Americans who aren't in a permanent coma.
Under no circumstances shall any politicians butt into this case. I don't care how many fundamentalist votes they're trying to scrounge for their run for the presidency, it is my wish that they play politics with someone else's life and leave me alone to die in peace.
I couldn't care less if a hundred religious zealots send e-mails to legislators in which they pretend to care about me. I don't know these people, and I certainly haven't authorized them to preach and crusade on my behalf.They should mind their own business, too.
If any of my family goes against my wishes and turns my case into a political cause, I hereby promise to come back from the grave and make his or her existence a living hell.

___________________________ Dated ______________________Signature__________________________________Witness __________________________________Witness

Ni! Peng! and Niiiii-wom!!!!!

This is too cool! A very old(as in we've known each other for a long time, he's no more ancient than I), and dear friend from my youth who has been very financially successful decided that he wanted to celebrate our collective entrance into middle age by gathering the old gang and flying us all to NYC to see Spamalot! So in late May, gentle readers, herein will be found a retelling of the adventure, assuming that legal proceedings do not prevent it. ;-)

Marius

So This is The Future? BFD

Today's rant is inspired by a news article I read about a Japanese firm, ZMP, inc., that is offering a 15" tall humanoid robot that will wander around your house providing entertainment and security. This little guy lists for $5450, and has a digital camera in his head that you can access via a mobile phone to see just what your pets are doing while you are gone.
To quote the eternally 8-year-old Calvin, "Where are the flying cars? Where are the personal robots and the zero gravity boots, huh?" Five grand for a 15" tall robot!? And all it does is wander aimlessly around your house!? I've been waiting nearly 30 years for my own R2-D2, or at least a freaking TWIKI, and this is the best anyone can come up with? Dammit!

Of course, given the way most people drive, I suppose flying cars aren't really such a good idea. I have family up North who consider it an affront to their manhood if someone passes them on the highway, so I can just imagine what kind of carnage would result from the widespread use of personal aircraft. Then again, the ensuing increase in jobs, mostly in the emergency response and medical examiner fields, coupled with an almost Darwinian removal of the weak-minded and/or dim-witted...sounds like a win/win scenario to me. OK, automotive industry, hop to it! Let's get those cars airborne!!
And let me know where to order those zero-gravity boots.

See ya,
Marius

And There Was Much Rejoicing

We were approved by the rental company today, so the pre-launch countdown has begun. Our new dwelling will be available on May 27, so sometime thereafter we shall begin the exodus home.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled surfing. :-)

Marius

Dead Pope-ies Aren't Much Fun

Good morning, boys and girls, and welcome to the Corner. Today I say Halleluja and Praise Jesus! There is no mention of the Pope in the headlines on my home page! While I freely admit that the death of a pontif is certainly newsworthy, two weeks of steady coverage is a bit much. I even welcomed the wedding of Charles and Camilla as something to see other than the Catholic church at its most excessive. I have to chuckle when I hear how some Catholic churches here whine that they don't have enough money to fund the defence/restitution fees incurred by their pedophilliac priests, when one of those jewel-encrusted, solid gold communion goblets would fetch enough on e-bay to pay for Cardinal Law's plea bargain deal by itself. So, firmly in touch with the inherant irony of this rant, I say 'Fare thee well, John Paul II. I didn't agree with you most of the time, but thank God you finally let Gallileo off the hook.'

So now the media, both left and right, once again begins its mindless, groping search for the next teat to feed off. Terri Shiavo is gone; Michael Jackson's trial is nowhere near as interesting as OJ's, and Iraq...well...I'll leave that for Jon Stewart.
Marius

Addendum

Ok, I just realized as I sent out the e-mail to let folks know about this blog that some of you don't fall into the leaving behind/going toward categories. I didn't forget about you, and so I'm posting this note to let you know that. If you are not in Louisiana, or Florida I still would love it if you were a part of this on-line family. And just for the record I do consider all of you family, whether we have a blood tie or not.

So there! :-)
Marius

And Thus It Begins

Greetings, Friends,
I am Marius. Most of you know me by various other names, but here in cyber-space I shall go by the simple nom-de-plume above. Herein I shall post such thoughts as cross my tiny little mind, as well as chronicle the events in my, and my family's, lives. There are many of you who I am getting ready to leave behind, much to my sorrow, and many others with whom I will soon be reunited, much to my joy. Rest assured that if you have been sent the address of this narcissistic endeavor, you are firmly ensconced in one of these two groups.

Right now I am not particularly outraged by anything, but you know that won't last. We have found an apartment in Tampa, and have sent in the application for it, so we merely await approval to know if we must needs continue the search for a dwelling. This is new territory for me, having never rented from a company before. They asked a lot of questions, but since I was once a property manager I don't blame them. I have seen what some rentors do to apartments.(here's a hint: it was easier to paint the walls than to clean them)(and for you Lyds, I still don't apologize for my color choices) ;-)

And now I bid you adieu. I encourage...nay expect... you to post responses here. I don't know where this blog will go, content-wise, but I'm sure it will be an interesting journey.

Marius

post script:

I'm not always politically correct, nor do I intend to censor myself as far a language goes, so pray forgive me if this shadow doth offend. :-)