NoThroRiceYo

When last we met, Em and I had just gotten engaged. I had a job waiting in Louisiana just 9 weeks from that day, so we had to move quickly. Let me say that if you are to get married, plan and do it quickly. Yes, 9 weeks is an awfully short time to make a wedding happen, and I did offer to elope about a dozen times during that period, but I could not imagine spreading that stress out over a year or so. Since we both are into things medieval we decided on a period-esque wedding. That being said, we had both attended period weddings where we saw unhappy attendees wearing ill-fitting borrowed garb and feeling very uncomfortable. Therefore we decided that only those directly in the wedding party would be required to wear garb. All were welcome to, and many did, but no one was expected to. My mom got a dress that looked sort of medievalish, but my dad wanted nothing to do with anything other than a suit and tie. Em's folks we more amenable, and Em made her dad a nice outfit to give her away in. Brielle was our flower girl, and our ring bearer was the son of my best man, A. The bride's maids all wore green dresses, and my entourage was dressed, as A put it in his toast, 'like extras from a Captain Morgan's ad.' Even the pastor, who had been Em's pastor since she was a young girl, wore his best robes and went along with the theme.


Here is the wedding party.


The wedding itself was much larger than I had expected. Of course, Em comes from a Southern Baptist family, so of the 200+ people on the guest list the lion's share were from her side of the family. Most of my extended family are in Connecticut, and only a few of them were able to make it down. We were also disappointed that my minions who helped me propose had a show that afternoon and couldn't attend. But we had a special party for them later to make it up to them. My main contribution to the event was my connections to the entertainment industry. I hate it when I go to a wedding and you can't hear what's going on. So I had Em, the pastor, and myself all wearing wireless microphones. Also my friends Lyds and Holland ran the sound and video cameras only on the condition that we would not attempt to pay them. I did, however, receive a ration of crap for insisting on doing the sound check myself. Holland also brought the sound equipment for the reception, so we were spared the expense of a DJ. Em wrote the vows, and my friend Trish sang during the service. Emily looked radient as she came down the aisle, and I got a lump in my throat. Brielle was dropping rose petals, and Darrian(the ring bearer) was picking them up, which was both adorable and funny. The only real glitch in the ceremony was the point where we both drink from a single chalice, but the maid of honor forgot to put anything in the chalice, but we faked it and nobody noticed. All together the ceremony lasted a little under 30 minutes, and we beat feet for the reception.

We arrive at the reception.


The head table.

The reception was great. The food was awesome, the cake even more so. I surprised Em by singing 'I Swear' to her. We ate, danced(I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing was our first dance), did the Time Warp, and visited as much as we could. After what seemed like only a few minutes, but was actually 3 hours, my mom came up to me and whispered 'Some folks want to leave, but no one can until you go.' I had forgotten that our departure was part of the ritual. So, reluctantly, we made it known that we were leaving. The gauntlet was established, and we were assailed with billions of tiny paper hearts(rice being passe these days). My car had been appropriately anointed with balloons, streamers, and rude sayings in shaving cream, and we drove off to the undisclosed location(a local bed and breakfast) for our wedding night. We were exhausted, and the first thing we did when we got there was take a nap. Later we...well, some things don't need to be written about, but that was more than five years ago now, and we're still going strong.

See ya tomorrow,
Marius

Ah, Romance.

Good day, and welcome to day 4 of NoMoQuidProQuo. Today I address another Monkey question. "How did you meet your wife?" Back in 2000 I decided to go to grad school with the intention of becoming a college teacher. I was living with my then girlfriend, and life seemed to be going in the proper direction. Unfortunately a few months later said girlfriend decided that she didn't really love me after all, and I was shown the door. A short time thereafter I was going to lunch at school when I noticed that the skinny redhead from the costume shop was reading one of the Gor books in the cafeteria. The Gor series is a Science Fiction/Fantasy series that takes place in an alternate universe where men are warriors, and women are slaves. The books are very popular in the Dominance and Submission sub-culture, but it is a rare thing to find women reading them. Normally I am very shy around women, but for some reason I found myself saying something along the lines of 'You don't usually see women reading those books.' She laughed and agreed, and we started talking. I found out she was involved in the SCA(medieval reenactment group) and knew a lot of the same people I did. We talked a lot, and my interest was piqued. Over the next couple of weeks I contrived to join her for lunch whenever I could, and flirted shamelessly. Unfortunately, I later discovered, she was clueless to that, and just thought I was a nice guy. Finally I worked up the stones to ask her out. We went to a little Irish pub I knew of, then went to the beach where it was windy, chilly, and rainy...but that didn't put a damper on some serious making out.

Fast forward to 2002. She had graduated with her Bachelor's degree the semester prior, and I my graduation was pending. I was in a quandary. I knew that we had something special. Her folks liked me, as did her daughter, but was I ready for something more lasting? All I had to do was nothing, and we would end up in separate parts of the country, and that would be that. And I realized I did not want that. So I got a white gold and sapphire engagement ring and summoned my minions at school. Em was to meet me that afternoon at the theatre so we could go to dinner. Erin, one of my students, met her at the door and escorted her to a specific seat in the auditorium. Shannon and Julie were in the control booth waiting for my signal to kill the lights and start playing Aerosmith's I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing(Em's favorite song). In the dark I ran out and sat right in front of her. At a predetermined point in the song Shannon brought up the spot light I had prepared that focused on me. I told her how much I loved her, and how the prospect of life without her was unacceptable, then I got down on one knee, opened the ring box, and asked her to marry me. She hesitated about 2.5 nanoseconds then said yes. I put the ring on her finger, and as we embraced the girls put on Smashmouth's version of I'm A Believer. And there was much rejoicing.

Tomorrow I'll tell you about the wedding.

Peace,
Marius

NamBlamThnkUMam

There have been many phrases over the years that basically mean 'stop whining and endure the unpleasant situation in which you find yourself'. Suck it up, Grow a pair, Cope, Deal, Call the waaambulance, etc. But lately there is a new one that I am rapidly growing fond of. Man up. I don't know why this appeals so much to me. Maybe because it's mostly women I have heard using it. Or maybe it's because my formative years were the 80's, and a more wussified decade hasn't occurred since 18th century France. In the 80's we were so in touch with our feminine sides that Boy George and that dude from Dead or Alive were major pop stars. Any sort of manly behavior was branded neanderthal and backward. I even knew guys who admitted to peeing sitting down. Then the 90's demonstrated that American staple...the classic overcorrection. The Man Show, Love Lines, and the inexplicable fame of Adam Carrera pushed us back in the direction of testosteridiculousness. Now things are settling down, and we seem to be experiencing something of a renaissance of gender identity. Men are free to be men. Women are free to be women. And small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri are free to be small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri. Women can be strong, and feminine. Men can be assertive and caring. And we finally aren't expected to cry at the drop of a hat. So for the duration of NoBlowPoLe I'm going to man up and post like it's 1999.(ok, that doesn't make much sense, but it's 5:35am and I'm struggling to keep back the tears) :-)

Peace,
Marius

NoMoYoko

Go Ahead, Caller...

Howdy, howdy, howdy, and welcome to day two of NoBlowMoe, or whatever. Today I'll begin answering questions. The wonderfully helpful, and part-time streaker, Monkey asked, "Were your parents theater folks? Did you grow up on the road?" In truth, I'm the weird sheep of the family. My dad was an occupational therapist and perpetual student, and my mom spent most of her corporate life in various aspects of banking. My maternal grandmother was a school teacher, and my paternal grandfather was a John Deere salesman. Most of my family are about as normal as they come and have absolutely no idea what it is I do, or why I do it. In fact, when I told my grandfather after I graduated high school that I was going to major in Theatre he literally said, "Yeah, but what are you really going to do?" To be honest, I still haven't figured out the answer to that question.

And how did this all happen, you ask? I blame one person. Duke! Many, many years ago, back at good old Lake Worth high, I was part of a small, but decidedly tight knit group of proto-geeks. There was Duke, who was into Star Trek almost more than I was, and was a member of the Drama Club. Rico, who made us ponder if Eddy VanHalen could be reincarnated while still alive and whose stories of Chicago made us wonder if he was the coolest human alive...or one of the best bullshitters in history.(the jury's still out, dude) ;-) Turtle, the gentle giant whose acting and singing talents were largely unappreciated and underrated. And Targon, the conscience of the group, whose dedication to Tolkien is even to this day unrivalled, and who shamed us into avoiding the obligatory 'elves are gay' jokes during our D&D games. We would gather at lunch time in the library to BS and plan our next Dungeons and Dragons get together, and one day Duke asked me if I could do a Russian accent. Now what self-respecting young Star Trek geek can't do a fair approximation of the terrible accent that Walter Keonig used as Chekhov? So I answered using my Chekhov voice that I could. Somehow, and maybe this was a hint of the almost preternatural powers as a salesman he has today, he talked this painfully shy, chubby Treknerd into auditioning for You Can't Take It With You. I had not been on stage since my 6th grade play, but I had said I would do it, and I did. And I got the part as Boris Kolenkhov, a ballet teacher who's opinion of just about everything was, 'It stinks!' At the same time, Duke took me to the Lake Worth Playhouse, which is a community theatre of no small renown, and introduced me to Bob Foster. Foster was the lighting designer there, and one of the great influences on my career. Foster taught me how to hang, focus, and maintain lights, as well as how to swear in front of adults. So while I was an actor at school, I was a techie at the Playhouse. I worked my first show as a stagehand there. The play was called 1000 Clowns, and by the end of that run I was hooked. I worked dozens of shows at the Playhouse, and was in every play at school until I graduated. Of the group, I'm the only one who made a go of theatre as a career, although Turtle has dipped his talented toes back into the performance pool from time to time, and Duke's exploits in the SCA are legendary. Rico just landed a groovy gig at NASA, and Targon is a respected therapist who just barely accepts the Lord of the Rings movies as 'not too bad, I guess.'

Wow, this ended up being a lot longer and more involved that I planned. I hope that answers your question, Monkey. Tune in tomorrow for the tale of how I met my wife.

Adieu,
Marius

ps
To my fellow bloggers, do you often find that when you write a blog that feels almost like a novella, and you apologize for it's length, then you read it and it's almost too short?

Rampant Commercialism Disguised as Holiday Tradition

But then isn't that really the American Dream(tm)? Good day, and welcome to November. Here it is, the first day of Nambla...um, I mean NaBloPoMo(dammit that's a stupid acronym)and, as promised, here are some pics of last night's assault on the ancient candy mines of the mall. As others have noted, the tradition of going door to door, at least here in Florida, has all but vanished. We left a big bowl of candy on our doorstep lest any young ghosties or ghoulies be disappointed with our not-being-homeness, and nary a one was taken. (Sigh), I guess we'll have to eat all that candy ourselves. So here is a photo essay of our adventures.


Gotta love that timer on the camera. (and yes, I know using my armor is cheating. Gimme a break, I was tired) ;-)



Queen Amidala reborn.

As the night begins, the costume is complete.


The Queen and her retainer, Mom.


Ahhh! The colors!! MY EYES!!!


Maybe I'm getting sentimental, but this little bumblebee was just too cute.


As the evening wears on, the headpiece wears off.



One hour, a full candy bag, and two tired trick-or-treaters later, we head home.

So, did you do anything fun last night?

Marius

Boo!

Have a safe and happy Halloween, y'all. And a sad farewell to Robert Goulet who died yesterday of lung disease. He was 73 and waiting for a lung transplant. I met him once. He was not exactly friendly, but he was cordial and a consummate professional and it was a pleasure to work his show. RIP, Lance.

Marius

National Blog Post Month

Howdy, howdy, howdy!! Well, I have committed myself to participate in NaBloPoMo, which means, crappy acronym notwithstanding, that I shall be putting up a new post every day in November. This should be interesting since I have two shows going up, plus the Thanksgiving holiday in that month, but we'll see if I can pull it off. And that's where you come in. I need ideas, questions, suggestions, anything to keep me from being like that air freshener commercial where the two girls are supposed to write a new song for every day the air freshener continues to work. By the end of the commercial the girls are reduced to 'Day 29...fine...whatever.' I will probably start with pics of the young'n as we take her to the new 21st Century trick or treating tradition..THE MALL! dun dun DUNNNNNNN!!! She's going dressed as Queen Amadala...our kid is nothing if not current. And I have yet to convince her that Jar Jar Binks is second only to raw liver in things distasteful to humans, but I'm working on that.

Ok, you have your homework assignment. Let's see what kind of diabolical scheme we can come up with, shall we?

Marius

Thanks, Monkey!

Stop Parking Scumbags

How many times have you seen a car pull into a handicap parking space, only to see a spry, very un-handicapped individual hop out and skip lithely into the establishment? Far too many. Up until now you only had three courses of action: 1. Call the police, who would most likely be too busy to catch the dirtbag; 2. Confront said vermin and risk an ass-kicking; or 3. Ignore it and silently fume. Well now there is an actual way to report these lazy bastards. www.handicappedfraud.org/ lets you report violators for investigation. Simply take down the vehicle's license number, the number on the handicapped tag(should there be one) and enter the info at the web site. The site says to leave a note telling the perp that they've been reported, but that is up to you, of course.

This has been a PSA from your friendly neighborhood Marius. Thank you.

;-)

OooooooOOOOoooooooooo, Scary Stuff

Welcome to a verrrry scarrry edition of The Corner. First of all, let me say hail and well met to two new friends hereabouts. Stinkypaw comes to us from the Great White North, and Purple Pigeon peers across the pond to visit from England. Welcome, welcome, welcome. Both of these ladies have a unique perspective, and very entertaining blogs. I highly recommend them.

As Halloween approaches I find myself waxing nostalgic for the halcyon days of childlessness, and greater alcohol tolerance. And as I travelled back through memories of Halloweens past I remembered my fondest All Hallows Eve memory. 'Twas a party and the home of J&G sometime in the late '80s. Dominos Pizza had an ad campaign that involved The Noid, which was a gnomish stop-motion animated beasty that lived only to destroy Dominos Pizza. I loved the Noid, and got myself a red leotard, blue shorts, my black and white checked 'cool shoes', and with the help of a certain PIKARESQUE made a head piece that replicated the elongated red ears of the fiend. I then made a spear out of an aluminum pipe and plastic curtain rod finial that looked like a spear point, and went to the party. Eventually, after many, many a drink was quaffed, someone(maybe me) came up with the idea to order a Dominos pizza. We pooled our meager cash and ordered a small cheese pizza. Many a giggle was had as I hid around the corner as the unwitting delivery man approached. Once the pie was paid for I came screaming around the corner, speared the box, threw it to the ground and stomped it into submission. We laughed our drunken asses off, and the delivery dude, pissed at having to work Halloween night, told us we had made his evening.

So what is your favorite Halloween memory?

Count Marius

More Monkeyshines

Once again I show that while I may be an idea thief, at least I have the good taste to steal from the best. Monkey asked in her blog what your favorite cover song is. I responded with The Presidents of the USA's version of Video Killed The Radio Star, although the Talking Heads' Take Me To The River, and DEVO's Satisfaction were very close seconds. Then that got me thinking, what song desperately needs to be redone. What song has great potential that was just never realized by the band that created it? To me the top of that list would have to be the 1969 classic In The Year 2525 by Zager and Evans. If you are unfamiliar with this song it paints the next millennium of 'progress' for mankind in a very Huxley/Orwell light. Unfortunately the singer sounds like Buddy Hackett. I find it unfathomable that some heavy hitting band has not decided to remake this one. This apocalyptic ditty needs a voice like Ronnie James Dio, or David Draiman(Disturbed).

So, your mission today is tell us what your favorite remake is, and what song would you love to see remade. Bonus points for what band you would like to see handle it.

Peace,
Marius

It's My Life

Bad Pussy

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Dumbledore Out of the Broom Closet(Deathly Hallows spoiler alert, although if you haven't read it yet shame on you!)

Speaking to an American audience at Carnegie Hall on Friday, J.K. Rowling announced that she always thought of Dumbledore as gay. Apparently Dumbledore's friendship with Gellert Grindelwald was more unrequited love than just friendship. When Grindelwald turned to the dark arts, Albus was "terribly let down" and then went to battle against Gellert. This was Dumbledore's 'great tragedy' she said. The audience was quiet at first, then slowly responded with a thundering applause. I must confess that when I read the tale of Albus and Gellert something seemed missing, though I don't think that thought ever rose high enough in my consciousness to get any real attention, but it all makes sense now.

The question I bring up about all this is does this revelation matter? Those of you that know me know that I think gay rights are a no-brainer. What any consenting adults do with, or to each other so long as no one gets unwillingly hurt is none of my business, and aside from the fact of being romantically attracted to members of their own gender there is no difference between gay and straight people. Well, except maybe for an enhanced fashion sense and more open minds, but I digress. ;-) Will the knowledge that the Obi-Wan Kenobi of this generation is actually gay help with future acceptance, hinder it, or have no effect. Does the unseen love life of a fictional character have any bearing on the real world? And should the producers of the movies really push to get Ian McKellen to play the part now? I honestly haven't figured out what my opinion on this is. I think that, should the children who love the Harry Potter books have this explained to them, it might just lead to a greater future tolerance, but then again if the people explaining do so in a bigoted, insensitive fashion it could do more harm than good. Or, since the books show absolutely no romantic inclinations whatsoever on Dumbledore's part, is this a non-issue. Suppose a long-lost Gene Roddenberry diary were found in which he stated that Spock was actually gay, would there be any repercussions beyond the fan-fic universe? I just don't know.

Whaddyou think?

Marius

History Repeats

Sherman, set the Wayback machine for a little under 40 years ago. Young little Marius sees the kitty on top of the dishwasher. Dumb little Marius grabs kitty. Kitty, afraid she's falling, extends her landing gear. Little Marius' eye, meet Tai's claw. Much wailing and blood; parents panic; race to ER; 'did we just blast through a stop si...CRASH!!'

Ultimately all was ok. The cat only scratched my eyelid, and I don't think anyone was hurt in the wreck. I wore a patch for a few days and had to endure some eye drops. Unfortunately Tai ended up getting declawed despite her innocence in the whole affair.

Fast forward to yesterday. The Kitties-O-The-Apocalypse are tearing around the house, doing their best to rearrange the walls, and maybe the ceiling, when up gets the Child-O-The-Apocalypse. COA sees KOAs and decides to get some fuzzy loving. Despite having been warned many, many times not to mess with the felines when they are playful I suddenly hear the all-too familiar siren of pain. As usual she won't say what's wrong, and since she reacts exactly the same whether she has stubbed her toe or removed a limb I can't tell if I need to worry or not. Finally she says that the cat scratched her eye. RED ALERT!! I get her to take her hand away and see blood inside her eye. PANIC!! HONEY, GET UP! WE HAVE TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM!!! We start racing around to get some clothes on(did I mention it was 6:30am?) when a trickle of rational thought, and long dimmed memories seep into my consciousness. I have the child step under the light and pry her eye open again. No more blood, just clear tears, and now I can see that the cat only got her eyelid. So we relax and decide that we'll put a cool compress on it, and take her to the doctor once they open. We lay her down with a wet washcloth and within 5 minutes she's refusing to stay put and wanting to play. We ultimately decide that the doctor is not needed, and by lunchtime she's acting like nothing ever happened.

The moral of the story is that we can learn from history. Oh, and keep your face away from playful cats.

Hasta,
Marius

I Don't Get It

Every now and then I read a story about some one's dead relative's grave being vandalized, or desecrated, or whatever. Inevitably words like 'tragedy', 'unthinkable', 'traumatic', and various other apocalyptic adjectives get bandied about. Now, I can understand being upset, angry, even outraged, but traumatized? Why do people put so much importance on corpses? I remember when I was but a pup my mom would take my brother and me to visit my great-grandmother's grave. I never even realized that the big stone had anything to do with Granny Lee. I remember looking out at the mountains and wondering if that's where she was supposed to be. The grave itself never registered as significant to me. My father's ashes are somewhere in Massachusetts, I think, but to go visit them is in no way appealing to me. And yet I recall a tale told to my by a friend who had spent some time as a grave digger. It seems a family with more money than brains decided that, after a year in the ground, Uncle needed a new coffin. The cemetery staff had to disinter the poor sod and dump his reeking bones into the new box. They had to burn their clothes after this totally pointless exercise. Can any of you explain this bizarre infatuation people have with the dead? To me a corpse is a corpse. When I die I really couldn't care less what happens to my body. I would hope that my wife goes for the least expensive disposal option so she can enjoy most of the insurance money.

So what do you think? Am I way off base here? Is there really a good reason to spend thousands on maintenance for the dead? Oh, and one other thing that occurred to me, burial plots are becoming scarcer and scarcer as land vanishes under shopping malls and condos, so why not start burying people vertically? Couldn't you just imagine Happy Acres Filing Cabinet Cemetery?

hee hee

Yup, Halloween is fast approaching.

Marius the Macabre

All By Myself...

Yesterday the lovely and talented Monkey put forth an interesting idea. While reassuring us that she adores her husband, she has oft times dreamt that the perfect wedded living arrangement would be to own a duplex in which each of them would occupy half the house, with frequent visits to the other side. This in no way diminishes her love for, or enjoyment of, living with her spouse, but would allow her some of the freedoms we tend to give up once we cohabit. I have many times harbored similar desires. Maybe not for an entire separate house, but I would love to have one room that was just mine to do with as I please and whose door, if closed, would be inviolate to all but the direst of emergencies...or the dinner bell. Here in Castle Marius, where we have but the two bedrooms and the one loo, if the heat generated by the friction of our daily lives grows too great, one's only recourse is to quit the premises. Oh to have a fortress, or even just a den, of solitude. I had always chalked these desires up to having gotten married so late in life, but now I wonder. Do any of you harbor such feelings?

Oh, and yesterday I discovered that the piping going into our water heater is leaking. I hope the landlords are swift in the repair.

See ya,
Marius

And The Cast Is:

All the major players for the new Star Trek movie are cast. They are:

Kirk-Chris Pine
Spock-Zachary Quinto
McCoy-Karl Urban
Scotty-Simon Pegg
Sulu-John Cho
Uhura-Zoë Saldana
Chekov- Anton Yelchin
Nero(bad guy)-Eric Bana
And both William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy will appear as Kirk and Spock. Now the only part left to cast is Chris Pike. Now the only thing we don't know is what the story will be. But fear not, as soon as I hear anything I'll post it right away.

Adieu for now,
Marius

I Love It When You Talk Nerdy

So I was thinking this morning about something so desperately nerdilicious that I had to share it here. Who, in your opinion, was the best Klingon in any Star Trek TV show or movie? I don't want to hem you in by defining 'best', I leave that up to you. The only limitation I ask is that we stick to canon; no novel or video game references. Only characters that appeared on screen. I'll go first.

General Martok, played by J.G. Hertzler on DS9, was the archetypal Klingon warrior. Fierce, honorable, and with a laugh that would rattle the cups of blood wine half a battle cruiser away. I loved watching him knock Worf off of his 'Klingoner-than-thou' high horse almost as much as I loved Hertzler's absolute commitment to the role. While there have been many great performances by other actors, Martok was, to me, the ultimate portrayal.

In other geek news, John Cho(Harold from 'Harold and Kumar go to White Castle') has been cast as the young Sulu in J.J. Abrams' upcoming Star Trek movie, and Simon Pegg('Shaun of the Dead' and 'Hot Fuzz') will play Montgomery Scott. Kinda hard to imagine Scotty killing a zombie with a cricket bat... And Eric Bana, who is probably still trying to forget 'Hulk' will be the villain, Nero. There are many rumors flying about as to who will play Jim Kirk, but nothing is final yet.

End transmission.

Marius the Uber-Dork

A New Survival Technique

This is an actual headline from Yahoo UK: Woman beats off Great White shark

Woot!!

Buccaneers: 13

Titans: 10


And there was much rejoicing.

FSM at MSU

The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster is currently the second largest religious organization at Missouri State. Watch the news report here.

And for those of you new to his Noodely Goodness, go here.

New Feature

Hi, Folks,
Occasionally I will post a comic strip that I find particularly amusing in the hope that you all will find it amusing as well. So now I've posted a list of links to the various web comics and funny sites I visit daily. It's on the left below the links section. Some of them you need to go back in the archives to the beginning to follow the story, but they are worth the read. I hope you relish them as much as I.

Peace,
Marius

Ramen, My Brother. Ramen.

How Obscure Can You Get?

For some reason two random synapses fired in just the right way to make me think of one of the most obscure shows from my childhood: Korg 70000 BC. It was about a family of cavemen, but that is all I remember about it. Although I seem to remember that my brother liked it more than I did, and we used to argue about watching that versus whatever show I wanted to watch at that time.(yeah, we only had the one color tv at the time...this was prehistory afterall)

What's the most obscure show you can remember?

And Now...And Elven Interlude

This is from Irregular Webcomic, an online strip I've become rather fond of. Click on the picture to enbiggen it.

Geek Speak(updated)

Let's talk about the state of Science Fiction television, shall we? There's a brand new bionic woman out there. It premiered last week, and my wife and I eagerly awaited the debut. We even watched it in real time, rather than let the DVR record it so we could zip through the commercials. If The X-Files and Battlestar Galactica had a secret love child, it would be The Bionic Woman. The new Jaime Sommers is a bartender who lives with her resentment-filled teenage sister, and is filled with insecurities and misery. Her boyfriend is a doctor who is pioneering bionics for a shadowy government agency. After the inevitable, nowadays, sibling bickering and romantic proposal Jaime is nearly killed in a car wreck, and the boyfriend 'fixes' her, without his bosses' approval, or even knowledge. Jaime wakes up, and thanks to neural implants is able to instantly use her new hardware(although they seem to be able to do extensive brain surgery without disturbing a single hair on her head) and she immediately meets her arch enemy...bionic woman mark 1.(Galactica's Katee Sackhoff) They fight, neither wins, and we leave our formerly wilting flower bartender all pissed off and filled with warrior badness.

What did I think? Meh. We have the second episode on the DVR, and I haven't had the motivation to watch it. I guess I'm already tired of the 'let's modernize something from 20 years ago' path Hollywood is taking. I loved The Six Million Dollar Man, and I remember watching The Bionic Woman, but I can't remember how I felt about it. As soon as the first episode began, and the two sisters began fighting, I thought "Ah, shit." The grunginess and angst of Galactica works for that show because it makes sense. Humanity on the run from a genocidal enemy that nearly destroyed the entire species is certainly fertile ground for everyone to be miserable. And it didn't start that way. We saw most of the cast being normal, well adjusted people before the Cylon attack. Bionic Woman went emo right out of the gate. It seems that disaffected, dysfunctional, angry women are the demo that the producers are aiming for, but I guess I don't fit that bill. I'll probably watch the second episode tonight, but I find I really don't care either way.

Another new show that has left me kind of cold is Torchwood. It's a spin-off of Doctor Who shown Saturday nights on BBC America. I love the new Doctor Who, but Torchwood has taken one of my least favorite characters from the series and made him the lead of Torchwood. John Barrowman, who plays Captain Jack Harkness, seems to benefit from being an American in England the same way some Brits get a pass over here. He's pretty, with a clear voice and sparkling eyes, but is a TERRIBLE actor. I am not the harshest critic of acting, but this guy is awful! Everyone else in the show is fine...well except the weepy suit-wearing guy...and the lead reminds me of a young English girl I dated once upon a time(hi Squee, if you are reading this)and the premise is groovy enough. Torchwood is a secret organization that monitors and mitigates alien activity on Earth. I like the characters, and the plots are ok, but I just can't stand Barrowman.

On to the good stuff. Stargate: Atlantis premiered last week. We love this show, and it has yet to disappoint. Amanda Tapping(Col. Samantha Carter of Stargate SG-1) has joined the cast, although her character has yet to officially join the crew of Atlantis. Mrs. Marius and I figured that if any of the SG-1 team would make the move to Atlantis it would be Daniel Jackson, but I guess Michael Shanks, who plays Daniel, had other things to do. But so far Carter's presence in the show has been explained quite plausibly. Right now the only thing I'm worried about is Tori Higginson, who plays Dr. Elizabeth Weir, has just had her character nearly killed, and is now a prisoner of some of the big bad guys. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but Atlantis has a history of not being squeamish about taking out someone whose picture appears during the opening credits. It's actually kinda fun to know that we can't be certain that a major character in grave peril will make it. It keeps things fresh.

And that's the Marius take on the tube right now. Oh, I almost forgot. On November 13th Paramount is releasing the re-mastered original Star Trek episode The Menagerie in High Definition to select movie theaters around the country. I checked the list, expecting to see that the nearest one to me would be Orlando, and lo and behold it's playing about 5 miles away. I am so there!

Ok, that's really it. Peace out, y'all.

Marius

Captain's Log: Supplemental

We just watched the second episode of Bionic Woman. It was better. While it is still very serious, especially compared with the original, they lightened it up a lot. The characters actually smile, and the shadowy governmental agency that built her is becoming more 'the good guys'. I don't know. The jury's still out, but I'm now willing to give it more of a chance.

That is all.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Here's an adorable palette cleanser to prepare you for today's shiny, happy blog to come later.

Marius

To George W. Bush on The S-Chip Veto(avert your eyes, Zo-Zo)

Dear Mr. President,
F**k you! F**ck you and the horse you rode in on! How dare you claim, after nearly seven years of the most egregious fiscal irresponsibility imaginable, that funding health care for the poorest children in this country is a bad idea! Your pathetic reasoning, that it allows for families making up to $83K a year to receive benefits, and that it takes us one step closer to socialized medicine, is patently ridiculous. The first instance requires a special waiver and specific government approval, which has yet to be given by the way, and the second is just preposterous. When we lived in Louisiana, and my wife was not working, we were able to keep our daughter on the La-Chip program, and all it did was act as any other insurance program. And thank God it was available since we could never have afforded her medication without it. The government never told us what doctor to use. Claiming that expanding S-Chip will lead to socialized medicine is as ludicrous as saying that gay marriage will lead to bestiality. I doubt you and the rest of your silver spoon sucking family have ever had to worry about whether you could afford to get your children in to see a doctor. Well here's a news flash for you, Putz! Even those of us who have jobs can't always afford the costs of health care. Have you ever had to decide between gas for the car, or your kids medication? I seriously doubt it. And while you're sticking it to the middle classes, your big business special interest cronies are lining up for your own brand of socialized, government hand jobs. Nice. As a taxpayer I would much rather see my tax dollars go toward helping a family in Louisiana keep their children healthy, then toward helping Blackwater murder civilians in Iraq, or keeping some Saudi sheik in silver plated cars.

So in summery, Mr. President. F**k you, just like you've f***ed us.

Sincerely,
Marius

Katz Pawz

Hai, wee iz Starbuk nd Artimus. R frends at Steel Wool , Sofeea, Purrsee, and Impy, wanted uz to rite sumthink on Mareeuses blog. Wee haf too du thees ferrry urlee soz the big peeplez wont shoo uz away. Missus Mareeus duzent let uz sow lyke Impy and Sofeea and Purrsee gets to, so wee juzt play wit her mejuring taypes. It iz ferry hard to tipe wit ur noze, so we goez slow. Sry. Wee tryed to print up sum dog jokez we fownd on the inturnetz, but the payper got stuk. Starbuk tryed to feex it, but hee iznt ferry gud at feexing theengs. I taked pikchurs of him and hee got mad and chaysed me. lol





Uh oh. Der is a weerd beeping noiz cuming from big peeplez ruum, dat meens they getting up now. We gotz to go.

K, bai.

Luff,
Starbuk and Artimus

It's Monday...Raise the Shields

Trebuchet Wins

From WJZ.com in Baltimore:

N.H. Pumpkin Tosser Knocked Out By Launcher
(AP) GREENFIELD, N.H. The first weekend of pumpkin flinging season ended abruptly Sunday in Greenfield when one of the operators of a catapault-like device was knocked out in a freak accident.

Chuck Willard of Hancock was hit in the chin by the boom on the Yankee Seige, a remake of a medieval weapon called a trebuchet. It can toss pumpkins 300 yards and it knocked Willard for a loop.

An employee at the attraction said Willard was out for about two minutes.

He was treated and released and said to be anxious to start tossing pumpkins again.

The Yankee Siege, on Route 31, will be launching pumpkins, weather permitting, every weekend through the end of next month.

20 Years Ago

Twenty years ago, sometime over the next seven days, Star Trek: The Next Generation aired for the first time on a channel near you. I recall that I was one of the 'nothing will ever replace my beloved Star Trek' hold-outs, but I watched 'Encounter at Farpoint' with as open a mind as I was capable of. Nor was I disappointed. My predictions were, it seemed to me, largely realized. The acting was stiff. The uniforms looked even sillier than the original series'. The relationships between the characters were cold and businesslike. And the new ship looked like some bloated balloon animal with the mumps. I predicted a swift, and ignominious demise to this pretender to the throne. I then, largely, tried to forget about the show. I watched an episode here and there, and saw no real improvement. They mostly seemed either rehashes of original series episodes, or so weak as to be more worthy of Jason of Star Command than Star Trek. My good friend, Senior Tortuga, gave me one of the original com badge pins, which I gratefully accepted and put away, not saying how much I disliked the show.

Then, something happened. An episode called 'The Measure of a Man' aired. The episode revolved around Data, the android member of the crew, being ordered to report to Starfleet for tests to find out how to make more of him. Data refuses on the ground that the testing will most likely destroy him. Starfleet decides that Data is property, not a sentient being, and cannot refuse. Picard demands a hearing, and the courtroom drama that ultimately determines that Data is sentient is some of the best written television I had, or have, ever seen. The seeds of acceptance were planted. I missed most of the third season due to school and work, but the fourth season was when the show hit it's stride. The final show of the season found Picard assimilated by the Borg, and Riker about to fire a doomsday beam that will destroy not only the Borg ship, and Picard, but a lot of the Enterprise as well. When the black screen, with only the words To Be Continued, blotted out the action, I shrieked in anguish and threw things at the tv. I was hooked. By now I had taken that com badge out of storage and wore it proudly on my jacket for many years before it broke, and I still keep the pieces fondly tucked away. The Next Generation grew from a two-dimensional, sterile view of the future that more resembled Star Trek The Motion Picture to a vibrant, well written, beautifully acted rebirth of all that was best in Star Trek. I still can't stand the outboard design of the Enterprise-D, but I came to love everything else about the show, and 'Star Trek: First Contact' is arguably the best movie in the entire series of films.

I find it odd that, while I was one of the last people to accept the new show, I am now one of the most forgiving fans. I liked Deep Space 9, and Voyager, although both shows exhibited some of the worst...and best of all the series. And I miss Enterprise. The show never really got a chance to find its feet. I think there was too much pressure to try to expand the audience, and they just ended up alienating those of us that had been faithful to the end. It seemed that the producers had realized this in the final season, but by then it was too late. The ratings were gone, and first-run Trek on tv was dead again.

Now a new movie is in production. This one, directed by J.J. Abrams, will go back to before the original series began. We will see a young Kirk and Spock, and the rest of the crew, in their first voyage together. As I heard about this my old 'how dare they' hackles rose. Can we accept other people playing these beloved characters? I don't know. But, as history will bear out, I've been wrong about such things before, so this time I will just wait and see.

Live long, and prosper.

Marius out.

It seems, sometimes, that the world is getting crazier and crazier. The handbasket journey south is accelerating to superluminal velocities, and the freak show, not the clowns, is running the circus. Then I try to pause, and reflect that in this age of nearly instantaneous transmission of information, we are merely hearing more about the same number of atrocities. Well, I don't buy that any more. The news lately had been literally riddled with stories of adults sleeping with underage children. And more often than not, it seems, it's women sleeping with boys. Now I will be the first to say that this is a glass house in which I must be very careful of my aim, given that my first great love(and lover) was 17 years my senior, and I was 17, but most of these kids have been under the age of 15. I realize that kids seem to be much more mature for their ages these days. Hell, while I was at the high school I often had to remind myself just how young they really were. But then again, and please don't take offence Zo-Zo, but for the most part one only has to talk with most of them for a few minutes to be totally aware of how young they are. And they should be like that. Yes, they play with sex the way we played with Garbage Pail Kids, but they are figuring each other out at their own pace, and they change partners more often than most high school jocks change their underwear. I'm not condoning it, and in a way I'm rather jealous, but they aren't getting into lasting relationships, or doing anything most of us wouldn't have done had the mores of our times been as lax as they are now. And another thing, when trouble arises these youngsters throw each other under the bus faster than a polar bear in a bobsled. So what adult would risk their jobs, their marriages, even their freedom to have sex with someone who is far too emotionally ill-equipped to handle the relationship, and couldn't keep a secret to save his or her life? Far too many, it seems. Granted the perception has always been that a girl has been abused, while a boy is just damned lucky, but perceptions are changing. Judges are taking just as harsh a stand with women as with men, especially when the perp is a teacher. I'm man enough to admit that the temptation to abuse that position of power is very real, but I'm also man enough to keep the temptation under control. That's one of the main things that separates humans from animals. Or at least it should be. Fourteen year old girls may dress like Paris Hilton, and fifteen year old boys may be as ripped and undressed as 50 Cent, but they must not have what innocence they have torn from them by some selfish pig or sow who's rampant hormones are only exceeded by their unfathomable stupidity.

In my humble opinion.

Disgustedly,
Marius

And The Winner Is...

So, in deference to Mrs. Marius' wishes, rather than look like this:








Now I look like this:



And poor Artemis just can't take it anymore.



Ciao, y'all.

Marius the Shorn

And Now...A Dumbass Interlude

Truck Flop

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Avast, ye lubbers! It's Talk Like a Pirate Day!

Arr, tis that wonderful time o'th'year agin, when all who are brave enough don their best buccaneer garb and raise a mug o'grog to Cap'n Jack Sparrow. So hoist the Jolly Roger, buckle yer swash, and swing from the highest yard arm. And if ye be needin some larnin on how to talk like a freebooter, then ye best be gettin yer landlocked backside t'this here web site: Talk Like A Pirate Day .

Now begone, scurvy dogs, lest I make ye walk the plank!!!!

Arrrrrr!!

Cap'n Marius

Groovy Finnish Folk Song

Beware: This song is very catchy, and will stay with you, but unless you speak Finnish you'll be hard pressed to sing along. The group is called Loituma. Enjoy.