tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-120655792024-03-23T13:52:24.846-04:00Marius' CornerQuestion with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason, than that of blind-folded fear.
Thomas JeffersonAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.comBlogger1293125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-20804263204136960572015-10-25T22:31:00.002-04:002015-10-25T22:31:41.248-04:00The Insecurity Bus Has Arrived<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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OK, let me preface this whine by saying that a week ago I changed blood pressure meds, and have been feeling pretty crappy ever since, so the worries I'm about to expound upon may be related to that. That being said, however, some of what is to come has been smoldering inside me for many years, and I finally have to get it out before they make me any crazier. I will try to keep this from seeming like I'm fishing for compliments, but I am fishing for feedback, and I'm not so sure the difference is all that vast. So if you wish to depart at this point I would neither blame you, nor hold it against you.<br />
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In December of 2008 I became a podcaster, and despite a few brief hiatuses I have never stopped. Even when my show (the now in cryo-sleep Starbase 66) was on pause I was always thinking about what to do next, whom to try to interview, what topics needed attention, etc. Earlier this year we recorded our last regular episode of the Starbase, and then instead of just relaxing I started up two more shows, and also put in regular appearances on yet two other podcasts, as well as the occasional cameo on any show that will have me. I have greatly enjoyed doing these shows, for the most part, despite the occasional bouts of self-doubt that rear up from time to time. I seem to be in the grip of one of those bouts right now, but it has lasted far longer than usual, and I find myself hesitant to actually post shows I've recorded because the sound of my own voice makes me cringe. Of late the thought of retiring from podcasting continues to crop up, even as I plot out what could very well be the best show idea I've ever had...but would require the greatest commitment of time, and resolve I've ever faced as a show host. And that's where this post comes in. I honestly don't know what people think of me as a podcaster. I know what y'all think of my cohosts from the Starbase. I know what y'all think about my cohosts on The Seventh Chevron and Simply Syndicated Move News, and I know what y'all think about Rich on Ray Guns and GoGo Boots, and I know that I am generally liked as a guy in the Simply Syndicated community. (at least I hope that's the case) What is different now is that I'm no longer just facilitating bringing great personalities like Ro Karen and Kennedy to your mp3 players. I'm being me, and just me, and I don't know if that's what folks want.<br />
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I know that some people put out podcasts for themselves, and don't really care if anyone listens, but I can't do that. I'm not looking for ego stroking, just honest feedback on whether or not what I'm doing is something anyone wants to hear. I will be taking some kind of break soon, but whether it's a permanent one or not remains to be seen. If you've gotten this far, and you have listened to any of my shows, please leave a comment either here or on Facebook, and let me know if, in your opinion, I should go on, or pack it in. (and if the latter, please be gentle) ;-)<br />
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Thanks, Folks.<br />
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MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-22552990917629174162015-09-20T10:24:00.002-04:002015-09-20T10:24:38.474-04:00HELLO...Hello...hello...oh..oh..........Wow, is it ever dusty in here. Well, I guess I'd better do some cleaning. More to come later, methinks.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-85447797570477777202014-08-02T21:17:00.001-04:002014-08-02T21:17:19.686-04:00Stranger in a Strange LandThere are two things that are relevant to this tale that I do not care for. One is crowds, and the other is comic books. I've never liked crowds, but the older and more reclusive I get, the less I like them. As for comic books, I don't have anything against them, I've just never gotten into them. So today seemed especially counter-intuitive as I accompanied my wife and toddler to the Tampa Bay Comic Con. Now let me preface this with saying that this was not my idea. My wife asked if I would like to go, and since she is big into comics, and doesn't get to do much of a social nature, I agreed. To be honest I'd been wanting to get to a convention for a while now, as I've only been to a handful in the past, and the last was somewhere in the vicinity of 1995ish, and given that the granddaddy of them all, the San Diego Comic Con has become far more than just a gathering for comic aficionados, I figured I'd enjoy this.<br />
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I've also been wanting to try my hand at cosplaying, and it seemed meet that we do something as a family. It was suggested that going as air benders, ala The Legend of Korra, might work:<br />
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Alas, with but a week and a half before the con, and many a moth in the bank account, this was not to be. (see the 'fast/good/cheap' triangle for further explanations) So, instead, we just went as a family of nerds.<br />
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The first hurdle that I feared was parking. Looking online you could book guaranteed parking, for $21! Given that this was a significant percentage of what it would cost just for tickets we decided to take our chances on public parking. As we approached the off-ramp it was remarkably free of the usual traffic jam, and I dared to hope. No only was there no traffic build-up, but we found a spot in the nearest parking garage that would cost us less than half of the above quote. So far so good.<br />
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We followed the flow of costumed younglings (and a few old farts like myself) to the convention center. We passed a man in a Jedi outfit with a rather beat up R2-D2, and Sharon asked to touch 'Deetoo'. He graciously accommodated her request, though she was too shy to touch the droid:<br />
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We then ran the gauntlet of radio station promotion tents and corner preachers to the con entrance. Again, much to my surprise, we stood in line for maybe five minutes and we had our tix, wristbands, and were in the con. Mrs. Marius wanted to attend some panels, but as the place was already pretty crowded at 10:40 she decided it wasn't going to happen, so we just wandered the floor. Here was my first indication that this might not be the best con for me. The Tampa Bay Comic Con is quite definitely a comic book convention. There were a few Star Wars themed booths<br />
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but the overwhelming number of vendors were selling...wait for it...comics and comic related paraphernalia. So I resigned myself to just enjoying the cosplayers, and wrangling Sharon. And there were lots of interesting cosplayers:<br />
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Sharon was, for the most part, very well behaved. There were a few times when she wanted to interact with cosplayers, like when she wanted to 'touch Tinkerbell':<br />
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Or when she wanted to meet K9:<br />
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but for the most part it was a lot of, "Daddy, what's that?", with me trying as best I could to answer her. There was one almost awkward moment when a young man with, I'm guessing, severe cerebral palsy in a motorized wheelchair and dressed as Robin came near, and Sharon piped up from atop my shoulders, "A baby!" (she's never seen an adult in what looks to her like a stroller) I said, "No, honey, that's Robin." I couldn't tell if the young man heard her or not, so I don't know if any offense was taken. There were two pairs of cosplayers that stood out enough to me that I tracked them down to get pics. First there were a couple of Spaceballs:<br />
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And then there were these two princesses, who got cheers wherever they went:<br />
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I would like to suggest that there be a moratorium on Deadpool cosplay. There were at least 20 Deadpools there. There were also lots of Doctors Who, X-Men and Women, monsters, princesses, all kinds of Imperial troops, a few Jedi, Links, and Batman villains. I would have liked to take more pictures, but my diminutive charge made such things difficult, but there was a lot of hard work in most of the costumes. Oh, and if you are a guy, and you need someone of the female persuasion to paint your face for your cosplay, might I suggest that the entrance to an already crowded men's room isn't the best place to do so. Just sayin.<br />
<br />As the afternoon wore on the place got more and more packed. I ran into my friend Dave and his daughter for approximately two minutes, but things were too noisy and crowded for much more than a 'hi, how ya doin?' I tried to get into the flow of the place, but between the near absence of TV/Movie SciFi stuff (although there was a booth that had some stunningly gorgeous spaceship models) and the huge lines at both the food vendors and the bathrooms I was growing more tired and cranky than Sharon. So around 3:00 we decided to call it a day. This is when things went to shit. First we had trouble finding the parking garage, then it took us nearly an hour of sweating, searching, and finally getting the security guys to drive us around to find our car. (both the Mrs. and I were sure we were on the second level, or at the highest the third. Turned out it was the fifth) Then, all of us sweaty and needing to pee, and with an increasingly cranky toddler in the back seat, getting out of the garage was the opposite of getting in. But, to cut a long story short, we made it home safely and without further incident. All in all it was a good day. Mrs. Marius had a good time, and so did Sharon. I can't say I had a great time, but I wasn't miserable, and I'd very much like to get some serious cosplay going for next year( I'd really like to make Scotty's outfit from Star Trek IV)...and maybe try to find a more SciFi inclusive con as well.<br />
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I'll leave y'all with this pic. Sharon's face pretty much sums up her day:<br />
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Marius out! :-)<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-30750032198865495582014-02-27T14:00:00.002-05:002014-02-27T14:00:31.948-05:00What I Did, and Didn't Do<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Hi, Folks,<br />
So it's a little dusty around the Corner, and there are sheets on all the furniture (I didn't put them there, but I think they spontaneously appear in any place that's abandoned for more than a few months) but the fridge still works, and the beer is cold and drinkable. So pull up a packing crate, or a bit of Voyager Commemorative Shuttle Debris™, have a seat, and let me unfold a tale of a journey, and a hard decision.<br />
<br />
I have a very dear friend with whom I worked back in the swamps of Louisiana that I shall call RL. RL is one of the most talented teachers/directors/actors I know, and when we parted company at the end of my time in the bayou (although, to be fair, there are no bayous in Central LA) it was a sad ending of a very rewarding three years. Fast forward to last year. RL is a tenured professor at a university in Alabama, and I'm the Technical Director at Eckerd College. Ironically I had just had a conversation with my wife about maybe considering leaving Florida eventually, but not so long as my dad was still alive since I want my baby to know her grandfather. Lo, not many nights after that talk RL informed me that they got the approval to add a Technical Director to the faculty. I told her that I wasn't really looking to go anywhere, but she slowly, gently began to work her magic on me. (she's very persuasive) It's a full faculty position (I'm 'only' staff here). The cost of living is much lower there. They're almost certainly/probably/hopefully going to be getting a new theatre sometime real soon. But, as I had just passed the five year mark at Eckerd, which a record for me, I gently refused.<br />
<br />
Then, in October, RL and I attended the nuptials of a former student of ours in Orlando. There was one question I purposely omitted, and at the reception I finally asked the salary. It's not a king's ransom, but it is considerably more than I'm making now. My resolve was melting faster than an ice chip in Satan's butt-cleavage. I asked the Mrs. and she agreed that I should at least apply. So after five years of being out of the job hunt I dug out the portfolio, updated the resume, and then hit emotional speed bump number 1...asked my colleagues for letters of recommendation. Now, I work with some amazing people, and of course they all said yes, but I was nervous enough to chew through neutronium before they all said yes, and how happy they were for me, and 'yes, you absolutely have to go for it.'<br />
<br />
Next came the online application. Work history, references, resume, evaluations, and <i>any other documents</i>. What on Earth could that mean. I asked and was told student testimonials. So I contacted some of my former students from as many different schools as I could find and asked them to write me up a letter of recommendation. And by the Flying Spaghetti Monster they came through in an embarrassingly effusive manner. It took a few hours over a couple of days to track down all the addresses and phone numbers that were pertinent to the past two decades of my life, but eventually all the data was input, and the waiting began. I began gathering photos for my portfolio which hadn't been touched in five years, save to move it from one bookshelf to another. Then came the phone interview. K was to call me and we'd chat for half an hour or so. I'd met K at the South Eastern Theatre Conference last year, so while it was a little bit awkward, it melted into a nice banter in no time. I got the impression that I did well on that part. After the phone interview came a lot of nothing. Then two weeks ago I get the call. The want to fly me up for some face time. So I book the flight, and begin to frantically get my shit together. One strange thing they asked for was a list of shows I've done. That was a tricky compilation, and it took emails to several old friends and students, but it ended up being about 111 shows, and I'm sure there are a few that slipped through the cracks of time. Seems like it should be more, but that's still a lot of theatre.<br />
<br />
So the time arrived, and on the 20th I departed Saint Petersburg. It would seem that the 7am flight to Birmingham isn't overly popular, and I had my whole row to myself. It was an uneventful flight until the landing, when the impatient hand of God swatted us out of the air and onto the tarmac. The landing gear did not, to my surprise, collapse and then all was well. K collected me and showed me around a bit of the lovely countryside. Then we arrived at my hotel room for as much time as it took to check in and drop off my bags. The next 36 hours or so went by in a heartbeat. Tours, meetings, lunches, more meetings, chats, talks, dinner, sleep, meetings, classes, and then almost before I knew it I was back at the airport, exhausted but confident that I had done my level best. I'll say this for the folks up there, I wouldn't want to play poker with them. I had no idea which way the wind was blowing in their minds since such a job interview is as much a sales pitch to the candidate as it is an appraisal of their value to the school. But inscrutability aside they are a lovely, warm, talented group of women and men, and anyone would be proud to work there.<br />
<br />
...But...<br />
<br />
The one fly in the ointment came when I spoke with their HR people. The health insurance package is very similar to what I have now, with one very important exception. Prescription medicines must be paid for out-of-pocket, and then reimbursed later. As we have a teenager with Asperger's Syndrome we have a rather large number of copays each month, and a quick calculation meant that we'd be paying over $1600 a month, and getting back around 80% of it 'later'. This gave me great pause, but I put it on the back burner until I could speak to my wife.<br />
<br />
So I came home, and I thought...and I thought...and I thought. There were some nagging doubts, both about the gig, and about my own abilities. It's natural to doubt yourself in such a situation, and ultimately I know I could do the job, but I kept swinging from 'how could they not hire me?' to 'what on Earth would make them want me?' Other things preyed on my mind as well. This job would require much more of my time than my current gig, and with the baby, and our teen I'm not sure how well that would work out. Plus our teen is finally in a school where they understand her needs, and her grades are starting to reflect that for the first time ever. Not to mention how upset she got when we told her that we might be moving again. Also my wife, who handles our finances, confirmed that the prescription situation would be virtually impossible. So it was with a very heavy heart that I contacted RL and withdrew from consideration. It was a painful choice, made all the more so because she told me they were going to offer me the job, but I had to do what is best for all of us, and not just for me. And though it saddened me to have to say no, I don't feel it was wasted time, since it would have hung over me as a 'if only I had...' forever had I not given it a shot.<br />
<br />
So RL, if you're reading this, I am truly sorry I couldn't take the job, and I am so humbled and honored that such an amazingly talented group of people feel that I am worthy of joining their ranks. Your students are top notch, and I wish all of you the very best in your future endeavors. And if any of my current students are reading this, I look forward to completing your training...now get back to work!!! ;-)<br />
<br />
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-5307177104503441772013-08-09T12:29:00.001-04:002013-08-09T12:29:37.910-04:00The Kennedy Space Center Revisited I love the Kennedy Space Center. Pretty much everyone that knows me knows this. I've been there numerous times, and even got to go on some special behind-the-scenes tours thanks to the magnanimity of the mighty Unkk, but I haven't been back there since the baby was born due to, well, taking care of the baby. In the interim the shuttle program shut down, and Unkk was forced to seek employment elesewhere, and I feared that the KSC would be a pale shadow of its former self.<br />
<br />
I was wrong.<br />
<br />
Since last I was in Titusville the orbiter Atlantis was put on display there. My dear friend Ted went there recently and posted pictures of the shuttle that piqued my interest, and so I decided to take this last week before work begins anew and went to, as I thought it would be, pay my respects to the dearly departed...or in this case the dearly decommissioned. <br />
<br />
I left early Thursday morning and managed to avoid the worst of the morning rush hour, arriving at the KSC a little after 10am. As I was driving across the causeway toward the visitors center I could see the Vehicle Assembly Building (VAB) in the distance, and I grew wistful. Unkk had given me the gift of a lifetime not too long ago and took me into that Mecca of technology back when very few members of the public were allowed within. Now that the shuttle program was scuttled I assumed the building was being turned into a vast museum. That didn't stop me from paying to go inside again, but it didn't have that same spice once it became something anyone with an extra $25 could do. But more on that later.<br />
<br />
As I entered the center I got my first unpleasant shock of the day. I had already paid double what tickets cost on my previous visits for admission, but parking had always been free...but no longer. $10 to park seemed a bit steep, but what are you going to do? I parked, slathered myself with sunscreen, and sallied forth.<br />
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The first different thing I saw, though I did see this from the road as well, was a shuttle external fuel tank and two solid rocket boosters towering, sans orbiter, over the park. I correctly guessed this to be the entrance to the Atlantis display. Then I got to the actual entrance which has had a complete revamp, and a gorgeous one at that:<br />
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The new entrance deposits you in the Rocket Garden,<br />
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and I wandered there a bit til it was time to catch the bus to the VAB. The guide was personable, and amusing, and rattled off stats that I almost knew by heart about the wildlife around the Space Center and various other bits of trivia. We drove along a road I'd never been on before, and saw some of the unmanned launchpads, including this:<br />
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That, ladies and gentlemen, is Space X's facility. If you don't know, Space X is the leading civilian contractor involved in spaceflight. They've sent two successful unmanned cargo missions to the ISS, and hope to have man-rated ships before too much longer. <br />
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We then drove to the VAB, passing the place where Unkk brought us in 2008 to see <a href="http://mariuscorner.blogspot.com/2008/06/discovery-you-are-go-for-launch.html" target="_blank">Discovery launch</a>.<br />
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Here is an aerial view of the VAB, since I didn't think to take any still shots of the exterior:<br />
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It's the building where all the Apollo rockets were assembled, and all the shuttles were mated to their rockets and fuel tanks. I've seen the outside of it since I was 5, and going inside once was the dream of a lifetime. Going inside <i>again</i> was just unbelievable.<br />
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I won't bore you with a bunch of stats, but if you remember how tall a Saturn V rocket is, the doors to this place are six feet taller. Anyway, as I was ignoring the tour guide in my orgy of photography, I took this picture:<br />
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And as I did so I realized it reminded me of a similar shot I took in Westminster Abbey of a stained glass window, and then it hit me. The emotions I was feeling must be similar to what a devout person feels when visiting a grand cathedral or other such place of significance to them. Science, especially the Space Program, is sort of my religion. It fills me with awe, and wonder, and brings me joy when I can share it with others. Kinda cool, no? I was also assured by several of the KSC people that the VAB was not being mothballed, and that as the new Space Launch System/Orion project ramped up the VAB would become off-limits to the public again, perhaps as soon as a few weeks from now! (though I don't really believe it's quite that imminent)<br />
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Eventually we moved along. We drove past the remains of launch pad 39A, which has been relatively untouched since Atlantis blasted off from there for the last time in July of 2011:<br />
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I couldn't help but remember the last time I was on that road, in Unkk's car, Atlantis was standing on that pad waiting to take her final journey into space. Now all is silence, and corroding metal. I asked why the pad was left more or less as it was right after the launch and the answer was no funding to tear it down. The tour guides are glad of that, but also said, with no small amount of disdain, that they're sure it will be leased to some company or other eventually, then the last of the shuttle launch equipment there will be swept away. It was a bittersweet part of the tour, and I was actually glad to get away from there.<br />
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The tour debauched at the Saturn V display building, another area I've chronicled extensively here before, but I do want to share this<br />
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So after lunching 'neath the 'most complex machine ever built' I took the bus back to the visitors center, and my main reason for the visit...Atlantis. As I approached the giant display of fuel tank and SRBs, I was gripped with both excitement and sadness. This was, after all, going to be like going to the grave of an old friend, right? I mean the tombstone imagery is kind of unavoidable:<br />
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But into the building I went. You walk up and in circles til finally you reach a line. Seriously? We have to line up to go into the room with the shuttle? But I chilled, and waited, and looked out the window:<br />
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Then, finally, we were ushered into a room where we watched a short film that, though very cheesily written, depicted the genesis of the shuttle program. The the doors beneath the screens opened, and we were funneled into a smaller, cone shaped room with a smaller, roundish projection screen directly ahead. It was pretty obvious that this screen was the entrance to the actual exhibit, but the launch videos were pretty amazing, and the music appropriately bombastic and inspiring. Then I saw an inner door behind the projection scrim rise up, though the projected star field kept what was beyond obscured. Then, with a final musical flourish, the scrim rose, and we beheld Atlantis!<br />
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Now I will tell you straight up that these pictures do not do this display even the slightest amount of justice. Instead of a dour, dead, static display of a now-defunct spacecraft, this building, which explains the higher ticket and parking prices, spares no expense in celebrating the Atlantis, and the entire shuttle program. I was actually moved to tears at points, and I look forward to the day when I can bring my baby girl here and share this wonderful place with her. But enough blabber, let me post a few thousand words:<br />
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In addition to the Atlantis herself there are numerous interactive displays, mock-ups that you can sit in, games, an "International Space Station" for kids to climb through (including the above-pictured part that's a clear plastic tube 30' off the deck for the truly brave kids to traverse), a giant slide that replicates the angle of the shuttle's landing glide path, and, of course, the Shuttle Launch Simulator, which is one of my all time favorite motion simulator rides. There is a beautiful memorial to the crews of Challenger and Columbia, and the ubiquitous gift shop.<br />
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I find it hard to describe how moving this display is. I've seen spacecraft up close and personal before. Apollo stuff is all over the KSC, and it's never made me this emotional. I think it's because Apollo, and Skylab, while events I dimly remember watching, are artifacts of a time before mine. I watched as the shuttle program was born, I've seen launches with my own eyes. I've cried along with the country when the crews of Challenger and Columbia never came home. Atlantis, Discovery, Endeavour, and Enterprise are not just names in a book to me, and to be almost close enough to touch one of them was a profoundly affecting moment. So rather than feeling like I was visiting the grave of a dead celebrity, I felt like I was finally meeting an old friend. If you ever get a chance to see one of the orbiters on display, I strongly urge you to do so. And if you find yourself heading for the Kennedy Space Center, give me a call. I'm always up for an excuse to go there.<br />
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To infinity, and beyond, y'all.<br />
Marius <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-78724169157579918822013-07-24T09:50:00.002-04:002013-07-24T09:50:52.608-04:00A Searched Soul<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Recently there was a high-profile news story about the murder of a 17-year-old boy here in Florida. It seemed to me to be an open-and-shut case and when the trial began I didn't pay it much attention since I was putting up a show and didn't really have time to follow the news closely. When the not guilty verdict was announced I was outraged, and vented much anger on Facebook and twitter. I labeled it a miscarriage of justice, and defied anyone to disagree with me. As time went on, and people I respect told me things about the trial that I did not know, I began to see that while I still felt that the situation was the defendant's fault, the jury had no choice but to acquit him. This kind of short circuited my brain. I tried to equivocate a bit on Facebook, but that quickly brought hints of ire from those who championed the cause of equality and justice, as I had, and still do. This sent me further into a mental conflict between beliefs, guilt, and the desire to assess facts rather than opinions. Eventually I locked up, and withdrew. I couldn't continue on my course of decrying the verdict, but I couldn't announce that I had changed my mind without seeming to betray the cause I so deeply believe in. I groused about trivialities, bitched about royal babies, and generally became a curmudgeon for a couple of days. Then, yesterday, I took the day off.<br />
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It may not seem like that radical a thing, but I don't get many actual days off. Sure, there are usually at least two days a week when I don't go to work, but since my wife's schedule is so weird (she works 4am-12:30pm) even on my days off I get the lion's share of the baby handling. And no, I'm not grumping about the baby, it's just that caring for a two-year-old is not the most relaxing thing. So yesterday, after dropping the baby off at day care, to took a true day off. I did a little bit of housework, mostly dishes and laundry that desperately needed doing, but I also watched grown-up shows on the TV (a delicious luxury) played on the PS2 (don't judge me and my ancient console ways) drank a couple of beers in the late morning (oh, such hedonism) and essentially did nothing I didn't want to until it was time to pick up the baby in the early evening. I didn't realize how much I needed such a day, or how energizing just chilling out can be. Today will be more of the same, with a bit more housework thrown in, before I must needs go back to work tomorrow to fix a few things and clean the shop in preparation for next week's strike.<br />
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So why am I telling y'all this? I'm glad you asked. One of the most important realizations I came to yesterday was that if I try to shape my opinions and beliefs based on the way people will react to them, I'm going to drive myself insane. I believe in equality for all, be they black, Asian, Hispanic, White, Gay, Straight, Bi, Transgendered, Intersexed, Nongendered, tetrapod, amputee, handicapped or handicapable, or whatever the pc term for whomever you are happens to be. I don't care what you do in your own home, so long as no one is hurt against their will. I don't care who you love, or if you love. I don't care who or what you worship, or don't, so long as you don't inflict your views on others who don't wish it. I don't care what your political affiliations are, until those affiliations negatively affect others. I will defend the weak, the impoverished, the marginalized, the trivialized, the abused, the ignored, the forgotten, and the damaged. I will rail against the powerful when they tread on the powerless, and I will accept your criticism when it is constructive, and valid. One thing I will not do anymore, however, is allow myself to become rigid in my beliefs and opinions out of fear of upsetting someone else. For example the fact that I've come to accept the Zimmerman verdict does not change my stance on racism or inequality in the slightest. Nor does it reflect approval of the verdict. It merely means that given our legal system as it is, the jury had no choice but to acquit. I still don't like it. I still think race played a major role in the events of that evening, and I will still do my best to stamp out racism whenever and wherever I can.<br />
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Here are a few other things I believe:<br />
Government is necessary, but our government is very broken.<br />
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Government regulation of business is, to a certain extent, necessary to prevent the abuses of workers that were rampant in ages past. This system, too, is horribly broken.<br />
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Governments, both federal and state, have no business being involved in medical decisions, nor do they have any right to legislate morality. What goes on behind closed doors, so long as no one is being victimized, is not the business of anyone but the participants.<br />
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Our military, while necessary, is way too big, too expensive, and too bloated. We need to reduce our presence in the Middle East, and stop trying to inflict our ways and values on people who don't want them.<br />
<br />
Politicians, aside from Elizabeth Warren, suck.<br />
<br />
Most conspiracy theories presuppose a level of competence from the government that just isn't there.<br />
<br />
9/11 was not an inside job.<br />
<br />
While it is possible that there is a large, heretofore undocumented simian species inhabiting the deep woods of the United States, the continued lack of hard evidence leads me to believe that there is no Bigfoot.<br />
<br />
Or Loch Ness Monster, for that matter.<br />
<br />
And on the whole, the Western world has its priorities so screwed up that we care more about Twinkies going out of production than we do housing, feeding, and educating those who have nothing.<br />
<br />
I could go on with more things, but I think I've made my point. Please feel free to agree or disagree with me. I may not always agree with what you say, but I will defend unto my last breath your right to say it, and I will always do my best to consider any informed opinion, especially when it differs from my own.<br />
<br />
Hey, it's almost 10am. Beer time!!!! ;-)<br />
<br />
Marius<br />
<br />
ps<br />
Actually I just want more coffee.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-13780766064122371912013-06-19T22:08:00.003-04:002013-06-19T22:08:50.864-04:00Man of Steel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It may seem odd to you, gentle reader, but I have never been a comic book fan. That being said, the only comics I ever owned were Superman comics. I've loved Superman as long as I can remember. I read the few comics I had over and over, watched George Reeves on TV, and spent most of my Saturday mornings glued to the TV. In fact if you ask me what the Superman theme music is, there's a 50/50 chance you'll hear me hum this tune:<br />
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What I loved about the old cartoons was there was none of this 'violence must never solve the problem' bullshit. If something, or someone was messing with Supes, they got a face full of invincible knuckles. Now that's not to say that I only dug that aspect of Superman. When Superman: The Movie came out in '78 I was so blown away by the charisma of Christopher Reeve, and the amazing (for the time) special effects that I <i>did</i> believe a man could fly, and there was relatively little in the way of fisticuffs by the Man of Steel in that film. I even enjoyed Reeve's second and third outings (yes, I enjoyed Superman 3, Richard Pryor and all). But then Superman 4 was a real let down and they stopped making Superman movies.<br />
<br />
When Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman premiered in '93 I watched, and I enjoyed, but it wasn't really what I wanted in a Superman series. Why I never watched any of the 'new' animated series I'm not sure. Maybe I just didn't know they were there. Oh, and I almost forgot The Superfriends. Well, maybe that should remain forgotten.<br />
<br />
Anyway, moving right along, 2006 brought the promise of a renewal of the Superman movies, but all it delivered was a wiry, emo Superman in low-rise stripper panties and yet another ludicrous Lex Luthor real estate caper. I gave up on ever seeing a decent Superman movie. <br />
<br />
Then, a couple of years ago, the buzz began that Zack Snyder was teaming up with Christopher Nolan to bring Supes back to the big screen. I held my breath. The production stills looked good. Henry Cavil looked buff and had muscles on his muscles, and I dared to hope. Well, today I saw Man of Steel, and I was not disappointed.<br />
<br />
::::There be spoilers from here on:::::<br />
<br />
I went into the cinema with very mixed emotions. I wanted this movie to not suck, but I fully expected it to, and I was very relieved that it didn't. It rewrites the destruction of Krypton just a bit, so that the Kryptonian people themselves are responsible for the disaster that dooms their planet, but the basics are there. Jor-El, played with understated sincerity by Russel Crowe, warns the elders that the planet is about to go boom, but before they can tell Jor-El that he's full of it, General Zod, played with manic energy by Michael Shannon, stages a coup that sends Jor-El to steal an important artifact, secret it aboard Kal-El's ship, and launch the infant toward Earth. Then he dies, they die, everybody dies...well, except Zod who along with his army is banished to the Phantom Zone.<br />
<br />
Once on Earth we have the obligatory difficult childhood/adolescence stuff, but similar to Tim Burton's Batman we see it in flashbacks while more exciting stuff happens. Diane Lane and Kevin Costner turn in wonderful performances as Ma and Pa Kent, as do the kids who play Clark at various ages. And Cavil acquits himself admirably as the alien amongst us suddenly faced with the decision of whether or not to reveal himself to the people of Earth, or continue hiding behind a mask of normalcy. Of course he has the computer generated ghost of Jor-El guiding him at certain points, but Snyder and Nolan wisely worked things so that <i>deus-ex-machina </i>probably won't be around in future films.<br />
<br />
The other players were fine, too. I've already mentioned Zod, and Laurence Fishburne was an excellent choice for Perry White. No Jimmy Olson in this one, which is another mark in its favor in my book. The only real disappointment, and I think it was more in the writing than the performance, was Amy Adams as Lois Lane. I just didn't feel any force of personality from her. Yes she has lines that clearly show how she goes where she wants regardless of whether she was given permission or not, but maybe I'm just spoiled by Margot Kidder. She may make Sean Young look positively centered, but there's no denying that she made Lois Lane into far more than just a handy hostage or damsel in distress. Adams isn't bad as Lane, she just doesn't stand out that much.<br />
<br />
As for the story, all you really need to know is that Zod eventually finds his way to Earth, and the ensuing smack-down leaves Metropolis in ruins. I will say that the final battle between Superman and Zod gets a bit tedious, and they could have very easily taken five or more minutes out of it, but the effects are top-notch and breath-taking. You will have no doubt what a bunch of supermen and women trying to kill the crap out of each other will do to a city, and the ending is surprising. I won't spoil that, but I will say I'm very impressed that they went there, and with appropriate repercussions.<br />
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The movie does suffer from being an origin story, so it seems to drag a bit at times, but overall it is a fast-paced thrill ride of a film that had yours truly totally enthralled. One warning, it is loud. I mean really loud. If you plan to take little ones to this, and they are sensitive to loud noises, do yourselves a favor and bring some earplugs. It is also long, two and a half hours, but it fills those hours well. I will warn you if you are expecting a fluffy, Christopher Reeve smirking and Gene Hackman hamming it up kind of movie you might not like Man of Steel. But if a more believable depiction of what a being like Kal-El might face in our current world appeals to you, not to mention city destroying Kryptonian vs Kryptonian action is what you want, then this is the Superman movie for you. I can't wait for the next one.<br />
<br />
Up! Up! And Awaaaaaay!!!<br />
(yeah, I'm glad he doesn't say that anymore, either)<br />
<br />
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-76189973323984848242013-05-17T23:05:00.002-04:002013-05-17T23:07:13.707-04:00Star Trek Into Darkness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Admiral, there be spoilers here! But I'll put them in the third paragraph, so if you haven't seen STID yet, go see it. (except you, Ro Karen. You get a pass) So this may come as something of a surprise to some of you. In fact it was a surprise to me, but I really enjoyed this movie. As my wife and I entered the cinema I was already composing my scathing tweets and reviews, for I was fully prepared for JJ Abrams to shit all over Trek in all kinds of new ways. But as the film progressed I found myself saying, 'OK, so far so good.' over and over again, until finally I just gave in and enjoyed the ride.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm not going to summarize the plot here, but suffice to say that this is a thrill-ride of a movie that never really slows down long enough for you to catch your breath, run to the bathroom, or ponder the plot too much. Say what you will about Abrams, and lord knows I have, he is really good at action flicks. As in 2009, most of the performances are spot-on, and while there are a few head-scratching moments, there is nothing as egregiously stupid as red matter or a supernova that threatens the entire galaxy. I'm kind of sad that I dislike the look of the 'new' Enterprise because there are some truly stunning shots involving the ship, but I just can't get over the ugliness of it.<br />
<br />
Now don't let it be said that I thought it was all tribbles and tranya, and here come the spoilers. First of all I am really pissed that despite all the flat out denials from the Abrams camp, Benedict Cumberbatch does eventually fess up to being Kahn. But, to be honest, it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. But what did piss me off was we see the origins of Section 31, which is the Starfleet black-ops outfit that infuriated me so much in DS9. I also have to admit that I wasn't that taken with Cumberbatch's performance. Maybe I was expecting too much, but he was very monotone. What you hear in the trailers is pretty much how he talks through the entire film, almost like he's trying to do his best Alan Rickman impression, but not quite getting it right. And Scotty was a little bit too much the comic relief this time, but only just a little.<br />
<br />
So this is not the Star Trek we all grew up with, but we knew it wouldn't be. Making a multi-million dollar movie leaves very little room for risk taking, so this is all flash and dash, with very little needed in the way of cognition. I don't imagine we'll see thought provoking Trek until, and unless it returns to television where they'll have the luxury of interspersing action with mental stimulation. So until that day comes at least we can look forward to exciting amusement park rides, and if their popularity paves the way for a return to TV, then it will all be worth it...I hope.<br />
<br />
Live long and prosper, y'all.<br />
<br />
Marius<br />
<br />
PS<br />
Nimoy's cameo was kinda stupid and unnecessary, but I liked it anyway. <br />
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<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-76502345966054532502013-05-13T09:00:00.000-04:002013-05-13T09:00:41.488-04:00Doctor Who?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Nerd alert, folks. If you're not into Doctor Who then might I suggest going to <a href="http://flurrious.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">flurrious's</a> blog and checking out her wonderful blend of snark, sarcasm, and despair. It truly is hilarious. However if you are no stranger to the TARDIS then come along, my friends, while I rant just a bit.<br />
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<br />
So this season has been, and I'm being generous here, lackluster. We got a new companion in the form of the amazingly gorgeous and perky Jenna Louise Coleman, a new TARDIS control room, and a new mystery for the Doctor to solve, i.e. Coleman's Clara. And on top of all this the story lines are all converging toward the massively hyped, and impossibly expectation-heavy 50th Anniversary Special. So why, then, has this season teetered on the brink of suck since the get go? There have been a couple of decent episodes, Cold War with its Hunt For Red Octoberness, and The Crimson Horror, which felt very much like a throwback to the days of Classic Doctor Who, but this weekend's Nightmare in Silver proved that even Neil Gaiman doesn't seem to know what to do with the Doctor right now. It was ok, but just ok. I'll freely admit that I think the Cybermen are kind of silly, but that wasn't the problem with the episode. So what was/is the problem? I'll tell you what I think, and it pains me to say it.<br />
<br />
Jenna Louise Coleman and Matt Smith have zero chemistry together. I don't know if it's a matter of the writers trying to create an Amy Pond type relationship within 6 episodes, or the actors just don't click, but I don't believe that the Doctor really cares about Clara as anything other than an intriguing anomaly, and I really don't buy her level of devotion this soon. Not to mention how totally nonplussed she is at all of their adventures at the stage where previous companions have still been freaking out. Maybe the reasons for that are going to be part of some big reveal later, but right now it just seems like lazy writing to me. Karen Gillan leaves the show, we get a new companion, and she acts very much like Amy Pond. The relationship between the Doctor and the companion usually takes much longer to develop, and I'm just not buying it this time.<br />
<br />
I'm still enjoying the show, though I must admit I really don't care what the Doctor's name is, but I sincerely hope that after the season finale next week the writers take a good, hard look at what they're doing, and bring their A game back, otherwise we may very well be witnessing the beginning of the end...again.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-28818061660533660762013-05-05T15:09:00.001-04:002013-05-05T15:12:56.911-04:00Wherein I Once Again Use the First Line From a Book I've Never ReadIt was the best of times, it was the worst of times. That is 50% of my knowledge of A Tale of Two Cities, and if it weren't for Star Trek and Jeopardy I wouldn't even know that much. But, be that as it may, it is very apropos to yesterday. As you know I have dear friends by the names of A and B whom I've known since I was but a wee pup. We haven't seen them, or their younglings G and D, since before Sharon was born. They live a couple of hours away, which is just far enough to make it more than just a spur of the moment visit, and going for longish drives with the baby has proven to be less than joyous. There have been several aborted attempts to get together, but it just hasn't worked out, until yesterday. Sharon has finally gotten big enough to use her front-facing car seat, and I thought I'd give it a try. This was also a good chance to see if driving to West Palm Beach, just she and I, would be feasible this summer. So phone calls were made, plans set, and after an hour's delay due to children being slower than the time flow at the event horizon of a black hole (that was this year's winner in the "most obscure simile' contest at Cannes) I finally got Sharon, the CoA, and myself under way.<br />
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The drive down wasn't too bad. The portable DVD player and numerous munchies kept the baby occupied, and the CoA's attitude was remarkably pleasant. We arrived at A's place a bit later than planned, and a fun reunion was had and some of the best steaks I've ever had were eaten. (even Sharon ate some, which is a first) Everyone adored Sharon, and she was working the room like a seasoned Vegas lounge lizard.<br />
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Well, I say everyone, but there was one being who was less than thrilled with the little pink poop monster's presence. They have a gorgeous dog named BigB (sorry, I'm not sure of the spelling) who is 1/4 wolf. He looks ferocious as all get out:<br />
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But he's a big snuggle-bug once he gets to know you. He didn't know what to make of Sharon, though, so he kept his distance. Sharon, on the other hand, is the Baby Who Knows No Fear ™ and kept going after the poor dog with an adorable 'Hi!'. Fortunately he would just move away until we could catch her, but I'll have to keep my eye on her around larger critters until she develops some self-preservation powers.<br />
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Not too long after we got there she ran out of steam and crashed:<br />
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While she slept they showed me an episode of Community, which is a show I must now watch all of in my copious spare time. We tried to watch another but Sharon woke up and was all giggles and energy, so paying attention to anything else was impossible. D seemed the most taken with her and they played together for quite some time:<br />
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Sadly as the day wore on the CoA grew 'bored', the baby started rubbing her eyes, and the time to wend our way home drew nigh. Hugs were given, bags were gathered, and a bundling into the car was accomplished. Assurances were made that the interval twixt visits will be shorter this time (a promise I intend to keep) and we launched ourselves northward. The less I say about the drive home the better, but as fatigue set in, and we all grew cranky, especially the baby, the atmosphere became less than festive. I can now safely say that I won't be sallying forth on any more long trips with both kids without Mrs. Marius along, and I suspect that a 4.5 hour drive with just Sharon and me might not be the best idea, either. So, as you see, it was the best of times going to see A and B and G and D, but the drive home was quite nearly the worst of times. Curse you, Charles Dickens, for your incredible aptness!! :-) And our undying love and thanks to A, B, and family. We'll be seeing y'all again soon, promise.<br />
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Peace, y'all,<br />
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-75528234136569427152013-04-20T13:52:00.001-04:002013-04-20T13:52:17.409-04:00Justice or Vengeance?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I've been fairly quiet about the events in Boston this week, mostly because I don't like to speculate without data, and despite round-the-clock coverage by just about every news medium known to man there has been very little actual data. But now that the two suspects in the Boston Marathon bombing (just in case you don't know what I'm talking about) are accounted for I'm going to go ahead and discuss. The facts, in a nutshell, are that for reasons as yet unknown two naturalized Chechen immigrants, neither with a history of any sort of violence, suddenly decided to set off bombs at the Boston Marathon, killing two and maiming hundreds. After being identified by various videos of the event they were found, fled, one was shot and killed, and the other was eventually captured alive, albeit in serious condition. The two are brothers, the dead one was 26 while the other is 19, and that is what I want to discuss.<br />
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Many people are calling for the head of the living assailant, and it is quite understandable, but I'm not so sure about that yet. One friend of mine even asked on Facebook what an appropriate sentence would be, and many respondents seem all too willing to get Medieval on him. Ordinarily, if, indeed such a word can be used here, I'd be all for getting out the rack and hot pokers too, but pending further information I'm reserving my vengeful desires. Let me explain why.<br />
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In my job I work with 18-20 year old boys every day. Notice I said boys. Physically yes, they are men, and many of them even deserve the appellation 'man', but many of them do not. The brain of a 19 year old human male is far from finished developing, and while many of them can be very, very smart when it comes to things like information storage and retrieval, they tend to be rock stupid when it comes to things like actually functioning in the real world. I don't know what the relationship was between this boy and his brother, and if it turns out that the younger one was every bit as complicit and guilty of bomb construction and trigger pulling then I'll be first in line at the hanging. But if this is a situation where the older man used the gullibility and malleability of his younger brother to twist him into someone he wasn't, then I hope those who are prosecuting the case have the compassion to at least try to rehabilitate him. Yes he must pay for the crimes he has committed, but we must determine if he is both perpetrator and victim before deciding just how he must pay. Only then will justice be served. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-18573978247039149122013-04-17T12:17:00.002-04:002013-04-17T13:10:08.369-04:00Face Palm <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I think it was when the CoA was in second grade that she was diagnosed with ADHD. I knew this almost from the first time I met her, but it took a while before official confirmation came along. It's important because schools need official diagnoses of mental conditions in order to make accommodations, and she needs a lot of them. As she grew older it seemed that the ADHD was no longer the only thing going on, but we could never get her health care providers to agree on a diagnosis. Her psychiatrists said it was only ADHD. Her psychologists (the last one just stopped returning our calls one day) grew frustrated in trying to nail down the exact situation. About the only thing they all agree on, including the counselors, is that she needs to be on medication. So last summer her grandparents footed the rather large bill for an extensive neurological screening at the University of Mississippi that suggested not only ADHD but other things as well and strongly urged us to get her to a neurologist. Last week she had her first neurologist appointment. They want her to get an MRI, and have suggested that they strongly suspect she has Asperger Syndrome, which, again, is something I've suggested many times and had her shrinks say no.<br />
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Today she had an appointment with her psychiatrist, and my wife told him about the neurologist's suspicions. His reply was along the lines of, "I thought you knew that already. I've been treating her for Asperger's for the past year." GAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! If we had that on an official document we might have been making progress at school since the accommodations for Asperger are different than those for ADHD. So now he's promised to have the appropriate paperwork ready by next week, and we'll see if the updated diagnosis does any good for this school year, but I rather doubt it since it's so late, but at least we're finally making some progress.<br />
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So how is your week going?<br />
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Marius the IncredulousAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-28449169662515212842013-04-13T21:14:00.001-04:002013-04-13T21:14:13.518-04:00I Want My Guts Back!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sorry for my absence, dear readers, but a particularly nasty virus has made my digestive tract its bitch for the past few days and I haven't felt much like living, let alone blogging. But since today I finally feel like poop, instead of total shit, let's see what we can talk about.<br />
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First of all I'd like to recommend a few books to y'all. Reading has always been something I've loved, but in recent years my reading habits have all but died. There are various reasons for this, chief of which is that I used to do the majority of my reading in bed just before going to sleep, but since my wife has to be up at 2:30am for work she goes to bed much earlier than I do, so that has ceased. And if I sit down on the couch to read, I'm usually asleep within a few sentences. But I've recently been making a concerted effort to change that. Over the Christmas break we went up to Mississippi to visit my wife's parents so I checked out John Scalzi's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Redshirts-A-Novel-Three-Codas/dp/0765334798" target="_blank">Red Shirts</a> from the library. I'd heard about the book from several people, all positive, so I couldn't wait to read it. It takes the concept that wearing a red shirt on the original Star Trek was a death sentence and runs with it. I was expecting a silly comedy, but it's actually a serious story about what happens when two universes collide. I can't go into the story too much without spoiling, but I really enjoyed it. I also finished it during the break, so it's a quick read.<br />
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The next book I just finished last night. A while back Wil Wheaton recommended via twitter <a href="http://thebloggess.com/" target="_blank">The Bloggess's</a> blog. Her name is Jenny Lawson and she is hilarious! Her humor is twisted, and vulgar, yet strangely innocent and sweet, and she has a real flair for injecting true pathos in amongst the stories of strange taxidermy and inappropriate CNN interviews. She released her memoir, titled <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0399159010/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=thebloggess-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399373&creativeASIN=0399159010" target="_blank">Let's Pretend This Never Happened</a>, and if you like her blog, you'll love her book. I must warn you that she does use a lot of strong language, but I think the best way to describe her style is M*A*S*H with F-bombs instead of real bombs. Lots of raucous comedy interspersed with real emotions and some sadness.<br />
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And finally there is another blog that was recommended to me by my friend Sarah called <a href="http://crappypictures.com/" target="_blank">Parenting Illustrated With Crappy Pictures </a>which is also hilarious. The author, Amber Dusic, tells tales of her life with two young children and illustrates them with poorly drawn, yet totally endearing pictures. She also released a <a href="http://crappypictures.com/parenting-illustrated-with-crappy-pictures/" target="_blank">book</a> with the same title as her blog, and it's a very fun read. My only complaint is that it is rather short, but for a $10 hardcover it's really worth the money.<br />
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Confession time. I started this post at 7:00 this morning, but the baby woke up shortly after I finished the first paragraph and I'm just now getting back to it at 9:08pm. I think I had more to say than just the books this morning, but my virus addled brain can no longer remember what it was, so I will bid you adieu for now until I either remember what I was going to say, or come up with something else entirely.<br />
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Peace, y'all!<br />
Marius Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-61546848020784434042013-04-09T17:49:00.005-04:002013-04-10T06:35:44.091-04:00Here is my reading of Edgar Allen Poe's <b><u>The Raven</u></b>.<br />
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Oops! Accidentally set it for private viewing. This should be better.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-63504403400975168962013-04-07T14:16:00.001-04:002013-04-07T14:16:06.135-04:00Dramatis Personae<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hi, Folks,<br />
I thought I might take a few minutes before going to rehearsal today to remind y'all, or introduce y'all to, the cast of characters that you're likely to meet here at Marius' Corner.<br />
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<b>Marius</b>: That's me, and my real name is Rick. Maybe someday I'll blog about the origin of my screen name, but the short story is Marius was my favorite of Anne Rice's vampires. I teach Technical Theatre at a small, private college on Florida's west coast and I've been blogging since 2005, though there have been some rather significant gaps in my output over the years. I'm also a podcaster, father, sometime anachronist, and full time geek.<br />
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<b>Mrs. Marius</b>: AKA The Mrs., The Wife, My Lovely wife, etc. She's my better half, and should acquire sainthood eventually for putting up with my shit. She's a fellow nerd, though while my nerdities are more along the Science Fiction line, she's firmly in the Anime/Fantasy camp. Neither of us care for Twilight.<br />
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<b>The CoA</b>: This is my step-daughter, and it stands for Child o'the Apocalypse. She is currently 15, and is forcing me to wonder how the human race survived as long as it has. She has a laundry list of mental and emotional issues that we are doing our level best to deal with, but on top of all that she is now a surly teenager who is so oppressed and misunderstood that she almost never gets to play with her DS anymore. (First World Problem doesn't even begin to cover it.) <br />
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<b>The Starbaby</b>: AKA Sharon. When my wife was pregnant my podcast listeners christened our fetus The Starbaby. She is now 19 months old and the light of my life.<br />
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<b>Artemis</b>: She is our cat. We used to have two kitties, Artemis and Starbuck, but back in June Starbuck went walkabout and never came back. He was something of a doofus, and never exhibited any desire to go outside until Sharon starting walking. He never cared for the baby, and once she could chase him I guess he had enough. About a month or so ago the CoA said she thought she saw Starbuck up the street. We checked it out, and there is a gang of cats two blocks away, and one of them could very well be our missing lummox, but he won't let us get close enough to tell for sure. If it is him then he's healthy, and happy, and dragging him home (assuming we could even catch him) would just make him miserable, so we're just happy to know(well, at least we think we know) he's still alive. Artemis, on the other hand, is needy, neurotic, and grumpy, but we love her.<br />
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There is also a plethora of friends who will pop up from time to time. I generally don't use people's names unless they've given explicit permission, so I tend to use initials, so when I say 'I had dinner with A' that's why.<br />
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And thus we have our players. If we shadows have offended think but this and all is mended, everything herein is solely my opinion, and unless specifically stated otherwise in no way represents anyone else's.<br />
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Ok, gotta get back to work.<br />
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Later, y'all,<br />
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-42517935487697316392013-04-06T21:39:00.002-04:002013-04-06T21:39:24.086-04:00The Duel by Eugene FieldI've been dabbling in poetry reading of late, and I intend to make several recordings both of poems that my mother used to read to my brother and me, like this one, and just poems that appeal for one reason or another. I hope you enjoy them.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yYMcpA8LyN8?list=UUR1AkTphuTCKT6hfR4RSdTA" width="560"></iframe><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-51449289411007876792013-04-05T12:35:00.000-04:002013-04-05T12:35:36.152-04:00Howdy, y'all!! I'm playing with new templates and trying to get Blogger to actually post things the way I type them instead of one huge, squished-together clump of verbiage, so please feel free to comment on the appearance, format, etc. of The Corner. <br />
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So this week has been something of an auspicious one. Our friend Z, who has been babysitting Sharon since she was just a couple of months old, moved away so we enrolled the baby in a nearby day care place. As I am the morning parent I feared the first day I dropped her off as I expected heart wrenching tears. As it turned out she didn't seem in the least bit phased by my leaving her there, but that has been slowly wearing off all week, and today she just stood in the middle of the room crying 'Dada! Dada!' I know she was most likely fine within a few minutes of my leaving, but it left me feeling a bit like a monster. I know we'll both get over it soon, but it is a bit wrenching.<br />
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In the world of work we start tech rehearsals for our next show, Fuddy Meers, tomorrow. The set is nearly finished, so I am anticipating a boring time of it for me, which is a good thing. <br />
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I don't want to say that I feel guilty about not being that moved by the death of Roger Ebert, though it is sad, but I wasn't a huge fan. I didn't dislike him or anything like that, I just didn't really pay much attention to him. I can say that were it not for him and Gene Siskel giving Robocop two thumbs up, which if you saw the trailers at the time came as quite a surprise, I don't know if I'd have bothered with it. So there is that.<br />
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Ok, time to make the donuts. Later, gators.<br />
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Marius <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-34959570553176842812013-04-04T08:05:00.002-04:002013-04-05T12:23:28.826-04:00Killer Hardware<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bL2GJqIhhrk/UV1sVk5QiXI/AAAAAAAADXM/AT24NzK5shc/s1600/gun+lovcks.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bL2GJqIhhrk/UV1sVk5QiXI/AAAAAAAADXM/AT24NzK5shc/s320/gun+lovcks.png" /></a>
Well, kiddies, what shall we talk about today? I know, let's piss people off right away and talk about gun control in the US of A. Connecticut, the little state that sometimes could, just passed some of the strongest gun control laws in the country. Not surprising in the wake of the Sandy Hook school shooting, but ultimately, in my opinion, pointless. First let's get this out of the way, I am not anti-gun. I'm anti-me-owning-a-gun only because I regularly hurt myself using my coffee maker, I don't need the added risk of removing bits of myself or my family in an unintentionally ballistic fashion, but I don't mind that other <i>responsible</i> people own guns. And there are some words in the US Constitution that seem to indicate that every citizen (meaning white, landed men at the time, of course) have the right to own firearms. We'll leave that whole 'well regulated militia' part alone for the time being as far more learned people than I have debated what those three words really mean for years.<br />
Anyway, Connecticut has passed bans on certain types of 'assault' weapons, limit clip sizes, and mandate background checks for all gun purchases. [for the sake of brevity let's just assume that there is a huge 'in my opinion' stamp over the rest of this] Background checks are a great idea. It really bugs me that I have to jump through more hoops to buy a box of cold medicine than I do to buy a shotgun. As for limiting hardware, well that's just legislative theatre designed to make it look like they're actually doing something. Sure, limiting semi-auto clips to 7 rounds seems like a logical step, but a skilled shooter can reload a 6 shot revolver in a few seconds, and changing out clips is even faster. Not to mention that someone who is looking to commit a crime with that hardware can easily get the higher capacity magazines just across the border. And the so-called assault weapons are no more or less dangerous than their less scary looking counterparts. This is the beginning of Connecticut's assault weapon definition:<i> Any selective-fire firearm capable of fully automatic, semiautomatic or burst fire at the option of the user...</i> Well, for starters, any weapon that can go full-auto (i.e. a machine gun) is already illegal for civilian use, the rest is just set dressing. I think that the way to curtail gun violence in the US is not to pass band-aid laws that only look like they're doing anything. The way to accomplish anything meaningful is to increase the penalties for misuse of firearms. When drunk driving penalties became much stricter in the 80s drunk driving plummeted, and no one had to ban booze. Start enforcing existing laws, take the guns away from repeat offenders, require training classes for anyone purchasing a firearm, and close the gun show loopholes that allow people to purchase guns without any sort of checks at gun shows. The genie is out of the bottle in this country, folks, and the guns aren't going away, but that lovely Second Amendment everyone likes to point to when ever this issue arises includes the words 'well regulated militia'. I've been told that that means that every citizen is a member of that militia, so let's regulate them well. Training, education, and accountability are the way out of this mess we have in this country, not more restrictions that will be ignored and difficult, if not impossible to enforce.
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<a name='more'></a>Of course we could also go the Chris Rock route and just make every bullet cost $5,000. :-)<br />
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Peace out, y'all!
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-72097974570058999672013-04-04T01:12:00.000-04:002013-04-04T07:19:42.476-04:00Existential BluesHello? Hellllllooooooooo!!!! Is anyone still out there? Wow, it's dusty in here. Lots of cobwebs and empty Doritos bags. I guess I'll need to do some cleaning up around the ole Corner. When the Hell did I get a cable spool coffee table? I hate those things. Must be squatters, or worse. Could be a bunch of meddling kids! Anyway, HI FOLKS!! It's your old pal Marius fresh from a muchly needed emotional slap in the face. I just got back from a wonderful dinner with my dearest friend A who has helped me realize that I still have a lot to say. You see I stopped blogging due mainly to my posts seeming to take two distinct and, let's be honest, annoying forms:
1. Oh, God! I'm so old and miserable that y'all should come on over and throw things at the decrepit relic.
or
2. I HAS A BABY!!!!!
It finally got to the point that I couldn't stand to write that stuff, let alone expect anyone to read it, so I just stopped. And lately I've been feeling like the highly compacted core of a baby-induced black hole, slowly losing my identity to that of The Daddy!! Now don't get me wrong, I am so proud of Sharon that I want to crow about it every 10 seconds, but I also keep hearing, most especially tonight, that I'm not the first, nor the only person to have a baby, and while it's great that you love her and all that, STFU ABOUT THE BABY ALREADY!!!
So, here I was, feeling like the brittle jerky filling in a boredom and parenting sandwich, and when I tried turning to my usual place of comfort and succor, The Internet, I found little help. Not that there aren't gobs of folks who offer, but no one was close enough to me, with similar enough experiences to really give me the understanding, and kick in the ass, that I needed. I realized I needed someone my age, and for once my gender, so I called on A. We hadn't gotten together since before the baby was born, and it was high time. So gaining my wife's blessing I went on a mini road trip and had some 'guy time'. We talked, had a beer each(as we both had to drive home), and vented at each other. And I feel better about myself than I have in quite some time. Sometimes the best show of friendship is a metaphorical slap in the face to snap one out of a funk and back into living. And this is the first installment thereof. I'm sure The Daddy will still be a regular contributor, but not as often, and, hopefully, only when there's something particularly cute or important to report, and I will do my best to keep the mopey Marius at bay as well. What I do hope to bring is opinion, outrage, silliness, and above all regularity.(no, I am not eating more bran, I mean the blog you sillies) So dust off that RSS feed, gentle readers. Marius is back, and boy does he have a lot on his mind!!
Allons-y!!!
Marius the Reborn<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Ev-d8yQVUNO5Ht1NMNQ4yQDYHmgvMzFY6av2MCy5ZrO6i5-enZ2cFGPNc4cW9hA_koAqvxuzYcfxqOttp7PjeuFE6hL4WzzeCkbE6WVeP3gM6LxVfDeaBNL3OZ2PfCjRREVtsA/s1600/DX-006.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Ev-d8yQVUNO5Ht1NMNQ4yQDYHmgvMzFY6av2MCy5ZrO6i5-enZ2cFGPNc4cW9hA_koAqvxuzYcfxqOttp7PjeuFE6hL4WzzeCkbE6WVeP3gM6LxVfDeaBNL3OZ2PfCjRREVtsA/s320/DX-006.JPG" /></a> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-45710617833925467492012-11-13T22:20:00.001-05:002012-11-13T22:20:52.847-05:00So...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love my job. I love teaching, showing, doing. I love building shows, and helping students build shows, and trying to give them a sense of professionalism while still having fun. I love the relationships I build with some of them. Some even become friends, of sorts. But there is one moment in almost every show that really sucks. And it sucks not only because it's unpleasant, but it sucks because no matter how many times it happens it always takes me by surprise. It's usually on the first Friday or Saturday night of the run. The show is over, everyone is ebulliently getting out of costume and makeup, just like every other rehearsal and/or performance, but then it happens. They start getting dressed again, but not in the ratty but comfortable tee shirts and sweatpants, but in nice clothes, and nice makeup, because it's not even 11:00pm, and they're going out. Of course they are. Most of them are barely 19 and they should be going out, but I'm not. I'm going home, and it's already late for me, and this realization hits me like a kick in the nuts. It drives home that as much as I think that I am friends with any of these wonderful people, I'm really not. I'm the teacher they like, they can relax with at school, joke around with in the shop, but the thought of hanging with me is not anathema to them...it's non-existent to them. Not that I want them to ask me along, because that would be awkward as Hell, it's just the voice in my head that says, "Hey, old fart! Guess where you're not going tonight." And I remember the days when I was one of the ones heading to the club or the park without the slightest thought for my teachers back in the theatre, and I know that it is the way of things, and that even if they did ask I'd politely decline, but that doesn't change the sadness and longing at being left behind. I don't have any friends my own age nearby, or at least none that I can hang with. Most of the time it doesn't bother me, but there's always that one night during each show that it sticks in my heart like a rusty spear, and I indulge in a bit of self-pity.
Sorry to be a bummer tonight.
Marius the ElderAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-46015461086266363522012-08-21T07:37:00.000-04:002012-08-21T07:38:02.607-04:00This Hate Has Got To EndThis is a repost, with permission, from a very brave young woman whom I am proud to call a friend. Please read this and pass it along.
<a href="http://pleasepasstheprozac.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/this-hate-has-got-to-end/">This Hate Has Got to End</a>
Posted on August 19, 2012 by Mindy Kinnaman
<b>What I’m about to do is one of the ballsiest things I’ve probably ever done. To be honest, I don’t really want to do this, but I feel like I am left with no choice.
As I’m sure many of you already are aware, earlier today, Missouri Republican and Senate hopeful Todd Akin went on TV this morning in St. Louis and stated that few rapes end in pregnancies. An absurd statement, I know.
Unfortunately, this is not the first absurd statement Todd Akin has ever made. Nor is it the most offensive thing he’s said, which is why I’m all fired up. Todd Akin has also spoken about rape, only in terms of “legitimate rape,” meaning that a person has not been raped unless he or she has been forced.
But before I get into the heart of my post, I would like to point out one very important fact. What I am about to say has nothing to do with my political leanings. I would say this even if Todd Akin were a Democrat, a Libertarian, or from any other political party. Because this issue goes beyond political parties. It goes to the very essence of who we are as humans, and sadly, I think so many people are so caught up in being the moral fiber police that they simply stop thinking about us as individuals.
So who am I, and why do I care?
Well, for starters, I am a rape victim. But I am quite certain that Todd Akin and his counterparts would never agree that I was raped. Why? Because I was raped by a partner.
Years ago, my partner (whom I have since left) would force me to have sex, but because we were in a consensual relationship, many people do not believe that it is “legitimate rape.” It doesn’t matter that I was forced to do something against my will. It doesn’t matter that my pleas went unheard. What the man in a relationship says goes in the minds of people like Todd Akin.
Very few people on this planet know what happened to me, and I thought that I would go to my grave without sharing that information. But as lawmakers around the United States continue to band together to strip women of their rights, I cannot be silent any more.
I do not want to be a martyr. I do not want people digging into the skeletons in my closet. But what choice do I have?
I currently live in a state with one of the toughest anti-abortion laws in the country, short of banning it outright. Less than 10 miles from me, across the border is the state I was born and raised in, the same state Todd Akin hopes to represent in the U.S. Senate.
If I keep my mouth shut, women in the United States will continue to be stripped of their rights. We will lose the choices we have that involve our very own bodies. Have I ever gotten an abortion? No. Would I stand up in support of loved ones who have had no option but to have an abortion? I have and will always do so.
If you don’t want to have an abortion because of your beliefs, whether they are religious or not, that is your right, but that does not give you the right to infringe upon my own rights.
How long ago was it that Rush Limbaugh decried that unmarried women who want to use birth control should have to show videos of themselves having sex? What happened? He lost a few sponsors, and there was an outcry from those of us who realize how sexist and disgusting his request was, but that was it. It did not stop the state of Missouri from honoring him earlier this year.
And Rush Limbaugh would have a fit, because I do use birth control, even though I am not currently having sex, because that is my right.
The voices of ignorance seem to be growing louder as the election draws nearer. As much as I wanted to stick my head in the sand and ignore it all, I can’t. I tried, but I can’t. Because if women like me keep our mouths shut, one day we will have no voice at all.
Our country is a mess, as the religious right seems to forget the fact that this country was founded upon religious freedom. I have done my research on the First Amendment and written papers on the topic. I know that we, as a country, should be as open as we can and accept that not everyone here believes the same. Yet, so many in this country still openly hate against anyone who doesn’t fit in the Christian code.
I grew up Christian, and it was that very hate that drove me from being an active Christian. I could not sit down and listen to all the hate that was spewed forth in the name of God. That same hate that drives people like Todd Akin to want to control everything about us, to strip us of the rights we had to fight so hard to get in the first place. If people like Todd Akin have their way, anyone who is not a white, Christian, God-fearing hypocritical male will be a second-class citizen. And all that progress we will have achieved since our founding will have been for naught.
So, to those of you who, as I do, believe that this hate has got to go, please stand up for our rights. Show your legislators that you will not have them relegate large portions of the U.S. citizenry to the back seat. Whether you are fighting for women’s rights or gay rights, you are fighting for human rights. Please stand up and help us work toward a democratic society that is truly democratic, where all citizens – regardless of race, creed, religion, sex, sexual orientation, status, etc. – have the same equal and unalienable rights we deserve.
Please register to vote, if you have not already done so. And when November comes around, vote for anyone who is willing to stand up for equal rights for all. It is the least we deserve.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-42537190395999138482012-08-14T07:04:00.000-04:002012-08-14T07:04:20.471-04:00I Wish...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUzaMRQXdPQPD6KsGe32cc7ptYfMBiAWHEOU8qE52OVw79FJAhSwIXBRKouP98VOAjHd_MHmhn1-xHQ7BplGyO0vY5lhRgFvVVps23Rc9s4mcL0nglEDDPLIqZMI2ck0VZRTgyg/s1600/question.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUzaMRQXdPQPD6KsGe32cc7ptYfMBiAWHEOU8qE52OVw79FJAhSwIXBRKouP98VOAjHd_MHmhn1-xHQ7BplGyO0vY5lhRgFvVVps23Rc9s4mcL0nglEDDPLIqZMI2ck0VZRTgyg/s200/question.jpg" /></a></div>
I can't sleep, even though I'm exhausted, and sore, and really want to sleep, but my brain is apparently in denial about the need for rest. So instead of being asleep I'm sitting here at the computer waiting for the Ambien to kick in. So hi, how are you?
I wish I were enthused about stuff again. I mean stuff other than my baby. I love her so much it hurts sometimes, and then I weep with joy. I also weep at almost anything involving babies now. It's kind of annoying, but since the source of it is my darling little one it's ok. But what I mean is that the reason I haven't been blogging is that things don't seem to be firing me up anymore. Politics just annoy me, and I hardly watch TV. Work has settled into something of a routine...well, as much of a routine as any Theatre gig can be. I need more money, but who doesn't? It's hot, but bitching about the weather is about as effective as Newt Gingrich's presidential campaign, and far more annoying. I'm fatter than I have ever been, and the reason is I sit around after the baby finally goes to sleep and surf the net and snack...again, not an interesting topic. And so it goes.
So, dear readers, if, indeed, any of you are still out there, what shall I write about? I would love to start doing this again, but my muses have all fled in the face of diapers and midnight feedings.
Oh, there is one bit of news, but it's not happy. Starbuck has been missing for two weeks now. He figured out that he could pop the screens out of the windows and get outside. I fought with him for several weeks, trying to come up with a way to keep him inside, yet not baking the house by closing all the windows. Alas, the persistence of <i>felis domesticus retardensis</i> wore me down and I got him vaccinated, and tagged, and showed him the doggie door in the back room. Now let me explain that it seems impossible to find a simple leather collar for a cat. They're all these nylon jobs in unnatural colors, and they all have a quick release clasp so moggie doesn't hang herself. Well I picked the collar with the tightest clasp and bejeweled it with his rabies vaccination <i>bona fides</i> and a tag laser etched with his name and address. I put these around his neck and showed him the back doggy door. He was so thrilled to be outside. He chased lizards, and generally lounged around, and within two days he had rid himself of the pesky collar. This was a Saturday night. He came in for his nightly helping of second dinner and that's the last we've seen of him. I keep hoping his walkabout is just a matter of him being unable to find his way home, and that eventually he'll catch a whiff of whatever I'm serving, and come running home. But every Starbuckless morning, and every fruitless trip to the local animal shelter(and if you ever want to be thoroughly depressed take a walk through the cages of one of those places) brings less and less of that hope that we'll see him again. And just for the record this is precisely the reason I don't like to let my cats go outside.
Anywhoo, what's up with you?
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-50497025770739028772012-06-16T07:50:00.000-04:002012-06-16T07:50:01.595-04:00The New Star Trek<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGu712PE7q99WgKHWC1JzmRU5hUwS-2y1Z3PLeEf9GkffkqYxb5Jyj-QKu-iHptd-rsg87qXZspsfKck9Srf3C05HMvgsOsu27rR6PVwsGrgzhxs67YKeJTjImHu3auz7dRRTLQ/s1600/star_wars_vs_star_trek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="120" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGu712PE7q99WgKHWC1JzmRU5hUwS-2y1Z3PLeEf9GkffkqYxb5Jyj-QKu-iHptd-rsg87qXZspsfKck9Srf3C05HMvgsOsu27rR6PVwsGrgzhxs67YKeJTjImHu3auz7dRRTLQ/s200/star_wars_vs_star_trek.jpg" /></a>
Back in 2008, when I started the <b>Starbase 66</b> podcast, my cohosts and I talked a lot about the impending JJ Abrams <b>Star Trek</b> movie. I had grave doubts about it, yet gradually I warmed to the idea. Finally, a year later, the movie premiered, and at first I loved it. I even saw it four times in the theaters, a feat I had not achieved since high school. It was even the first Blu-ray I purchased. But in the intervening three years the blush has come off the rose, so to speak. I can't say I hate the movie, just nearly everything about it. I loathe the 'new' ship. I despise the uniforms. The hardware is cheap looking and obviously designed to look good in a box on a Wal-Mart shelf, and the inner workings of the Enterprise look exactly like what they were, a fucking brewery! And don't get me started on the lens flare and overly contrived plot devices. In fact the only thing that keeps me enamored of this film, and despite my above kvetching I do still love this film, is the performances. The actors totally saved <b>Star Trek</b> from out-sucking <b>The Final Frontier</b> and <b>The Motion Picture</b> combined. Sometimes you get a film, such as <b>The Avengers</b>, that becomes greater than the sum of its parts...this was not the case with Abram's <b>Star Trek</b>. Abrams seems to be the anti-Lucas. Lucas can direct an action sequence like almost no one else, but his work with people leaves much to be desired. Abrams is the opposite. Everything about his movies...in my opinion...is trite, yet he directs his actors with a dexterity and respect that makes the performances shine. Yet the overall effect, as seen in the snooze-inducing <b>Super 8</b>, is just meh...with lens flare.
But, Marius, why are you revisiting this now? Well, I'm glad you asked. Lately the news feeds have been full of speculation, teases, hints, and interviews about the sequel to <b>Star Trek 2009</b> which finished principal photography a couple of months ago. Abrams will be directing it again, and the original creative staff is on board as well. This has been filling me more and more with a sense of dread that has been made even worse by the severely disappointing <b>Prometheus<b></b></b>, of which Damon Lindelof was the executive producer and co-writer. He's also the producer on the Trek sequel and was the executive producer of <b>Lost</b> and <b>Cowboys and Aliens</b>. With the exception of <b>Lost</b>, which didn't do anything for me, that is not a promising pedigree. The first Trek reboot was saved by the actors, and by my enthusiasm to see the characters and worlds that I love reborn on the big screen. Now that the novelty is gone, I have serious doubts about what is to come. I hated hating <b>Star Trek: The Motion Picture</b>, and over the years have found my way to appreciating the good parts of it, and <b>Star Trek V</b> is still a stinging, open wound, but at its worst the original Trek films and shows are the companions of my youth, and I can forgive them their occasional offenses. But this new Trek, and Abrams attempts to make it more like <b>Star Wars</b>, is getting very close to making me loathe the thought of any more <b>Star Trek
</b> being made. If it's just going to be a pale shadow of what we grew to love over the past 46 years, full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing, then I'd just as soon it rest in peace, and leave us to our memories.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-86848019070941835492012-06-14T10:31:00.001-04:002012-06-14T10:31:48.833-04:00Barrage of CuteSo, yeah, having a baby really saps your time, your strength, and your ability to speak in your normal voice. So rather than try to trump up some sort of half-baked bloggerific concoction of semi-digested thoughts and overly-hyphenated pseudo-word things, I figured I'd just inundate you lovely two or three who still read this with some pics and videos of the tiny creature that has totally taken over my life. Enjoy!
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rBe62jdZXJU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AYYmTo5FrHo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UjcI0E_VVrs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
And now some pics:
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuGER8ycAVeb_qV9K3d9CBMcmKuP4gTjMIML-uD38grRSWP3luODsw1FsgNGPy7CtVN2MqowOXzwLcY9ZwTuzKo7hi5QET40RYDyi923lT4buLfB2r9eLDYXBDPvieII_Y6T9fQ/s1600/Baby+stuff+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuGER8ycAVeb_qV9K3d9CBMcmKuP4gTjMIML-uD38grRSWP3luODsw1FsgNGPy7CtVN2MqowOXzwLcY9ZwTuzKo7hi5QET40RYDyi923lT4buLfB2r9eLDYXBDPvieII_Y6T9fQ/s320/Baby+stuff+002.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8D5H5_CRktihtJXF034r7aTVWCsdzWmM47JN7vT1En3O8_4VFGVy9KAVfABYg_pGqprC_KQdO7HL9T8k7Y1GM6-qBb0rytVRHW_LDgGu1AFmHZjeRI0H_OKEabK-jimHl0SJSDQ/s1600/Park+Fun+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8D5H5_CRktihtJXF034r7aTVWCsdzWmM47JN7vT1En3O8_4VFGVy9KAVfABYg_pGqprC_KQdO7HL9T8k7Y1GM6-qBb0rytVRHW_LDgGu1AFmHZjeRI0H_OKEabK-jimHl0SJSDQ/s320/Park+Fun+011.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijxPCsyfW1bgSbS9g85izGmW9quzJYYfazOam00cXOsksfgYKrL0-K3hrcumuLe98Z3toUXmNdC7YpbxHbty2ZedMus0Cn65P2bQa2goEsJFWigr6y9zTzVVmjyozFH5PIQc2Bvg/s1600/Park+Fun+014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijxPCsyfW1bgSbS9g85izGmW9quzJYYfazOam00cXOsksfgYKrL0-K3hrcumuLe98Z3toUXmNdC7YpbxHbty2ZedMus0Cn65P2bQa2goEsJFWigr6y9zTzVVmjyozFH5PIQc2Bvg/s320/Park+Fun+014.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhToMjXI9DsA6B_Pf18nrTSSgzvf0IlpSpkv576WAYKgVEDF-kVH46YJZGUglXa8rk_ONC_8DF1Dq50qvXlo3HRLPFC86FMbPTjHq3VIW3iYzizwVH-D1fR98wr7LkrjSwAEnBkiw/s1600/Park+Fun+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhToMjXI9DsA6B_Pf18nrTSSgzvf0IlpSpkv576WAYKgVEDF-kVH46YJZGUglXa8rk_ONC_8DF1Dq50qvXlo3HRLPFC86FMbPTjHq3VIW3iYzizwVH-D1fR98wr7LkrjSwAEnBkiw/s320/Park+Fun+015.JPG" /></a>
Ok, I'm now going to wash bottles and hope her nap lasts long enough. Peace out, y'all.
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12065579.post-45212589228897190252012-05-25T07:17:00.000-04:002012-05-25T07:17:01.880-04:00The Teacher Learns<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQLWCVJxWwAofZCypwr0VJ-YVnClCtvFj987kqQnmotCygiYJtdqK9KYRJ7BmzpUNhUyXT3tI1xPL2c7NMIoaWGPCw2HPiuM16DMieRQz_fwAppNjpS1v0QVzL8o_1Jj4gZlwEw/s1600/Steel+Dragon+Warrior+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="160" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQLWCVJxWwAofZCypwr0VJ-YVnClCtvFj987kqQnmotCygiYJtdqK9KYRJ7BmzpUNhUyXT3tI1xPL2c7NMIoaWGPCw2HPiuM16DMieRQz_fwAppNjpS1v0QVzL8o_1Jj4gZlwEw/s200/Steel+Dragon+Warrior+.JPG" /></a></div>
Who'd have thunk that a little pink poop monster could teach me so much? For one thing I've learned, not surprisingly I suppose, that the only instinct humans are born with is knowing how to suck. Far too many people never let that one go. I've also learned that just like love and obscenity, disgusting is in the eye of the beholder. (and you may relax as I shall not elaborate on that) But the biggest thing I learned just the other day was something about myself. I used to be what they now call emo. My high school and college notebooks were filled with bad poetry, sappy sketches, and drippy prose about how I'd gladly march into the jaws of death for the young lady that was currently the object of my fancy. But as I've grown older, and less convinced of anything beyond this mortal coil, I find the notion of willingly grappling with the Grim Reaper anything but romantic. Then, the other day on the way home from work, I found myself wondering what I would do in a situation where I could only save Sharon by sacrificing myself, and I realized that I would do so without a moment's hesitation or regret. All those times in the past when I've told people 'I'd die for you' I only thought I meant it. I now know exactly what it feels like to truly mean it. It's a good feeling.
Something else interesting happened last night. We all have reoccurring themes in our dreams, and one of the most disconcerting to me is when some supernatural force has created an invisible barrier that immobilizes me. I know that this is an artifact of the temporary paralysis we experience in our sleep that keeps us from physically acting out our dreams, but it's very unnerving. Last night the culprits were aliens, and it was a staircase that no one could go down. Only this time they took Sharon. And last night, for the first time in my life, I broke through that barrier. Of course as soon as I did that the dream shifted to me being Superman and flying around a city, but the important part is that my feelings for my little girl penetrate into my subconscious so much that even in my dreams they give me strength. It's very cool.
Other than that things have been pretty quiet here in Castle Marius. The school year is over for me, so it's time to start doing things around the house and spending even more time with Sharon.
What's up with you?
Peace,
MariusAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09452924829161040975noreply@blogger.com2