Bite me, Blanche Dubois!

The fictitious lady in the title always relies on 'the kindness of strangers', but lately I have been the extremely grateful recipient of the generosity of my dearest friends. This weekend was another chance to visit some of my closest(though, alas, not physically) and oldest friends, A and B, and their lovely kids G and D (yeah, G kinda ruins the alphabetical order of their initials, but she's pretty cool so we'll just let that slide). I try to get down to see them once or twice a year, but with the moving and Mrs. Marius's crushing work schedule traveling has been more problematic than usual. Added to that my car's air conditioner died last year, and with temps regularly hitting the high 90s a long(three hour) drive is akin to a mobile sauna. But a rare convergence of events transpired this week that allowed not only me to travel south, but my lovely wife as well...and her a/c works just fine. :-D You see she's finally, after three years, being moved up to full time at her job, thus allowing her to quit the second job, and actually get real, honest-to-goodness days off. And there was much rejoicing.

We both had to work Saturday morning, but the afternoon found us giving the cats an early dinner, packing a change of clothes, and wending our way to the magical land of Naples. After passing through a deluge or two, this is summer in Florida after all, my cell rang and it was A instructing us to get off the freeway ten miles early and meet them at Outback steak house. This we gladly did and joined them for a lovely meal. There were many hugs and laughs, and amazed comments at the seemingly inhuman growth of the children, and catching up on such things as movies, and TV and such. And there was much rejoicing.

Ere too long we repaired to the hacienda, assured the ferocious Bigby the dog that we really weren't there to hurt him and that he didn't need to keep hiding behind the living room chairs, and settled in to visit. The ladies almost immediately began discussing Twilight, and us guys did our best not to roll our eyes out of our heads. Eventually B and Mrs. M went away to look at books, and A and I chatted about this and that, and then the words Rock Band were spoken. No, quoth I, I have not played yet. No sooner had these words been uttered when the kids and A pounced on their PS3, and suddenly the living room was converted into a Karaoke bar. I sang, 'played' drums(very badly), and had a blast. Eventually the ladies returned, and my wife had a bag full of paperbacks to bring home, and everybody joined in the game. A couple of hours later we retired to the hot tub while the kids swam and we chatted, reminisced, and just chilled. Bedtime followed soon upon.

Sunday morning was mellow and unhurried. Mrs. M had never played any Wii games, so that system was unsheathed, and we all threw things, and shot things, and then she was introduced to the strange world of Raving Rabids. Then a sumptuous lunch was made by A and B, and we feasted 'pon grilled piggy and taters. Alas, all too soon it was time to make our way home to the, at least in their minds, starving Kitties-O-The-Apocalypse. But before we left we were presented with some groovy stuff. A and B had cleaned out their daughter's closets, and the wife and B went through the Goodwill-bound bags to see if there was anything the CoA could wear, and yay verily there was. A, having been gifted this yuletide with the first two seasons of Star Trek TOS on Blu-Ray gave me his DVD copies of the same(at which point I think I might have squeed just a bit), and just when we thought the presents were done, they gave me a small, gift wrapped package that they said was meant for me at Christmas, but we never got together. I opened it, and if I squeed a little over the DVDs, I squeed a lot over this:



If you don't know what that is, last year a company released three Star Trek related fragrances, Tiberius, Red Shirt, and Ponn Farr. I loooove the artwork on the bottle. It's pure genius. And here it is on display with some very good company:



And then it was time to make our way home. More hugs were dispensed along with hopes that the next visit would not be so far away this time. We loaded up our booty and our memories and sallied forth. The drive home was uneventful, and upon our arrival the cats merely sniffed our hands and gave us sour looks over the obvious scent of our puppy-petting guilt. Then they started bitching about the empty food bowls, and all was right with the world again.

Thanks, A, B, G, and D. We had a great time. :-)

And there was much rejoicing.

Marius

The Greatest YouTube Video EVER!

To quote one of the comments, this is the reason the Internet was invented.

R2D2, It Is You! It Is You!

Today was an interesting day. It started as most days do, with Starbuck waking me a few minutes before breakfast time. I shambled downstairs, fed the cats, and crashed for another hour on the sofa. Then coffee was quaffed, webs were surfed, and the daily boredom settled over me again like a bag of wet cement. Then, shortly before my wife was due home, something snapped inside me and I got sick of my inertia and started cleaning. After the move we managed to put away enough stuff so that the main living areas of the house were clear, and then we just sort of stopped. Today I excavated the living room, polished the remaining silver, and even hung one of our pictures, and now it looks like this:



So that was a good thing. Unfortunately, whilst vacuuming the rest of the house one of the cat toys got sucked into the beater brushes and I kinda lost my shit. Hurling toys the cats never use hither and thither, and hurling words I've been using far too often lately as well, my wife pointed out that I really need to get out of the house. Summers sometimes weigh heavily on me, and with the exception of last weekend's wonderful stay at Castle Duke there have been too many days where I haven't even left the house. Today it all crashed in on me. So my wonderful Missus dug into the webs and tried to find something for us to do tomorrow, since she actually has the day off. We settled on Tarpon Springs, which is just across the bay and the locus of sponge diving in Florida. It has a huge Greek population, so I'm looking forward to nomming many a baklava and grape leaf. I'm actually quite excited. It's very easy to forget that there is a reason, besides the weather, that Florida is a tourist Mecca.

Something wonderful that happened today involved the Duke and His Lady Memorial HDTV. For more than 20 years I have known that somewhere in the hieroglyphics adorning the Well of the Souls set in Raiders of the Lost Ark were R2D2 and C-3PO, but I had never been able to spot them. Today I popped Raiders into the blu-ray player, and spotted them quite easily in all that gorgeous high def clarity. I was giddy as a school boy, and my wife, who was unaware of this pre-DVD Easter egg, got quite a chuckle as well. It quite literally made my day. Cheers, your dukosity. :-)

And that's all for now. I'll give a full report on our away mission upon our return.

Later, y'all,
Marius

Ooooo. Aaaahhhh. Ohhhhh!!

Gather round, folkses, and let me tell you of a groovy weekend. As most of you know, this weekend was our Independence Day celebration and Duke invited us down to his place to enjoy some brew, some noms, and some explosives. Alas, Mrs. Marius had to work, but sent me on my way with her blessing. The trip down was uneventful, and I arrived moments after the doughty Turtle and Sheeps. Hugs were dispensed, and then we went to lunch at a totally awesome place called The Ice House. It is actually an old ice house that has now been turned into a pub, complete with about four gazillion dart board, and a few more types of beer. Thus the drinking began. Upon our return to Chez Duke Targon and the family arrived and there was much rejoicing...and drinking. The rest of the afternoon/evening consisted of beer, movies, beer, a very strange board game, an incredible lasagna made by Mrs. Duke, vodka and beer, pool, and finally beer. At long last we all hauled our rapidly aging, and aching, heads to bed. Sunday, your actual 4th of July, saw us not too much the worse for wear, and a tasty breakfast was quickly followed by an even sillier game of Munchkin. If you are at all familiar with fantasy role playing games, such as Dungeons and Dragons, get a copy of Munchkin. It's frikken hilarious! And family friendly as the participants in this game were made up of three children, and three adults. After lunch most of us old farts took naps as it was raining quite heavily. Later the rain let up a bit and Duke introduced me to the world of SCA fencing. This is similar to the full contact fighting I used to do with heavy rattan swords, but with real steel swords. These are not heavy broadswords, but more along the lines of the rapiers you saw in The Princess Bride. Between Duke, Turtle, and Sheeps they had enough gear to get me outfitted and a grand, if very sweaty, time was had by all. I really enjoyed myself and even have a couple of bruises to show for it. Gonna have to get more into this.

Sunday night was dry enough for the fireworks that Duke had acquired. He and I braved the mosquitoes, smoke, and occasional misfired rocket to play firebugs as we launched numerous brilliantly colored flames heavenward. Fortunately we were all quite sober...though more due to over indulging the night before than to any sense of safety...and everyone retired within with no net loss of digits or other vital organs. We played some more pool, drank a few more beers, and had an all adult game of Munchkin before turning in.

Monday was bug out day. Half of us were heading north, whilst the other half was headed south. Turtle and Sheeps and I met Mrs. Marius for an amazing lunch at an all you can eat sushi and Chinese food place called Crazy Buffet(if there is one near you I highly recommend it) and then we all went our separate ways; full, happy, and quite relaxed. I know it was something I very, very much needed, and I suspect that the feelings along those lines were quite mutual.

So unto Duke and his lovely lady I say thanks again for another grand 4th of July. And to everyone I say that it was, is, and always will be so wonderful to see you. I have been, and always shall be your friend...even if you do like Yuengling. ;-)

Love to all,
Marius

Hiya

Ok, so slacker doesn't even begin to cover my lack of postings hereabouts, but I shall endeavor to make amends. As you may recall we recently pulled up stakes and hauled our collection of shit, crap, and sundry junk into a new(to us, anyway) abode. As I've whined previously it was more traumatizing than I'd anticipated, and I kinda spiraled into a deep mauve funk. (it wasn't a deep blue funk because I rather like that color, and this funk was not pleasant) As time has passed, however, and the stuff of our lives has osmosed into the closets and drawers of the new place I have found melancholy replaced by sheerest boredom. But not the kind of boredom that inspires you to actually do stuff. No, more the kind of boredom that, if it weren't for the pesterings of hungry felines, might cause one to question the wisdom of getting out of bed at all. Well, 'tis time to break out of this cocoon and get some shit done! And let me share a bit of advise for any of you that might be renting your dwelling from an actual rental company...don't waste your time cleaning before you leave. We busted our asses making sure the old place looked better than when we moved in, and still got buggered out of 9/10ths of our security deposit.

Now for a media report. Don't go see Robin Hood, unless maybe you are seeking a drug-free sleep aid. My grud! I expected it to not be very good, but I didn't expect to be bored to death. Russel Crowe exhibited all the personality of a piece of Formica in this snoozefest of a movie. The rest of the cast did their very best to add a sense of fun to the film, but every time Crowe was on screen he acted like a fun-absorbent bit of floating boom, sucking in all semblance of merriment until everyone around him seemed to just give up and wander, zombie-like, through the rest of the picture. Ridley Scott owes me two hours and twenty bucks!

On the up side, thanks to a massively generous house warming gift, we now have our very first HDTV and Blu Ray player. I had seen the high def televisions, and even allowed myself to lust after them a bit, but was only just beginning to entertain the possibility that we might, someday, be able to afford one. Well now we have one, and it's FREAKING AMAZING!!! And the best part is that the disc player has built in WiFi, so it can talk to our wireless router and stream movies from the Internet directly to the TV. If I might steal a line from Will Wheaton, I love living in the future. Anyone want to take a guess what the first Blu Ray movie I bought was? ;-)

And that's about it for now. I'll be joining Duke for the Independence Day celebrations again this year, and I'm very much looking forward to that. Podcasting is going great, and we've been recording like crazy lately, and the COA is at her dad's, so Mrs. Marius and I are getting a very much needed break.

So, I'm going to get some breakfast and then do some cleaning. I'm sure you'll be on the edge of your seat until this exciting activity is fully documented in this august journal(I know it's not August yet, but indulge me) but I'm afraid I have to keep some things private.

Oh, and if you haven't seen the Matt Smith Doctor Who yet, why not?! He's brilliant!!

Ciao.
Marius

Paging Dr. Mengele

It's been a while since something this repellent has come to my attention, but this is just so disgusting that I have been using every outlet at my disposal to get this out into the light of day. This was taken from The Stranger website, and I implore you to repost this in any forum you have access to. This must be stopped now!!
Marius

Doctor Treating Pregnant Women With Experimental Drug To Prevent Lesbianism
Posted by Dan Savage on Wed, Jun 30, 2010 at 9:05 AM

Originally posted yesterday afternoon at 3:15 PM.

That's not fair, as Hanna Rosin at Slate will shortly point out. Pediatric endocrinologist Maria New—of the Mount Sinai School of Medicine and Florida International University—isn't just trying to prevent lesbianism by treating pregnant women with an experimental hormone. She's also trying to prevent the births of girls who display an "abnormal" disinterest in babies, don't want to play with girls' toys or become mothers, and whose "career preferences" are deemed too "masculine." Unbelievable:

The majority of researchers and clinicians interested in the use of prenatal “dex” focus on preventing development of ambiguous genitalia in girls with CAH. CAH results in an excess of androgens prenatally, and this can lead to a “masculinizing” of a female fetus’s genitals. One group of researchers, however, seems to be suggesting that prenatal dex also might prevent affected girls from turning out to be homosexual or bisexual.

Pediatric endocrinologist Maria New, of Mount Sinai School of Medicine and Florida International University, and her long-time collaborator, psychologist Heino F. L. Meyer-Bahlburg, of Columbia University, have been tracing evidence for the influence of prenatal androgens in sexual orientation.... They specifically point to reasons to believe that it is prenatal androgens that have an impact on the development of sexual orientation. The authors write, "Most women were heterosexual, but the rates of bisexual and homosexual orientation were increased above controls . . . and correlated with the degree of prenatal androgenization.” They go on to suggest that the work might offer some insight into the influence of prenatal hormones on the development of sexual orientation in general. “That this may apply also to sexual orientation in at least a subgroup of women is suggested by the fact that earlier research has repeatedly shown that about one-third of homosexual women have (modestly) increased levels of androgens.” They “conclude that the findings support a sexual-differentiation perspective involving prenatal androgens on the development of sexual orientation.”

And it isn’t just that many women with CAH have a lower interest, compared to other women, in having sex with men. In another paper entitled “What Causes Low Rates of Child-Bearing in Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia?” Meyer-Bahlburg writes that “CAH women as a group have a lower interest than controls in getting married and performing the traditional child-care/housewife role. As children, they show an unusually low interest in engaging in maternal play with baby dolls, and their interest in caring for infants, the frequency of daydreams or fantasies of pregnancy and motherhood, or the expressed wish of experiencing pregnancy and having children of their own appear to be relatively low in all age groups.”

In the same article, Meyer-Bahlburg suggests that treatments with prenatal dexamethasone might cause these girls’ behavior to be closer to the expectation of heterosexual norms: “Long term follow-up studies of the behavioral outcome will show whether dexamethasone treatment also prevents the effects of prenatal androgens on brain and behavior.”

In a paper published just this year in the Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, New and her colleague, pediatric endocrinologist Saroj Nimkarn of Weill Cornell Medical College, go further, constructing low interest in babies and men—and even interest in what they consider to be men’s occupations and games—as “abnormal,” and potentially preventable with prenatal dex:

“Gender-related behaviors, namely childhood play, peer association, career and leisure time preferences in adolescence and adulthood, maternalism, aggression, and sexual orientation become masculinized in 46,XX girls and women with 21OHD deficiency [CAH]. These abnormalities have been attributed to the effects of excessive prenatal androgen levels on the sexual differentiation of the brain and later on behavior.” Nimkarn and New continue: “We anticipate that prenatal dexamethasone therapy will reduce the well-documented behavioral masculinization...”

It seems more than a little ironic to have New, one of the first women pediatric endocrinologists and a member of the National Academy of Sciences, constructing women who go into “men’s” fields as “abnormal.” And yet it appears that New is suggesting that the “prevention” of “behavioral masculinization” is a benefit of treatment to parents with whom she speaks about prenatal dex. In a 2001 presentation to the CARES Foundation (a videotape of which we have), New seemed to suggest to parents that one of the goals of treatment of girls with CAH is to turn them into wives and mothers. Showing a slide of the ambiguous genitals of a girl with CAH, New told the assembled parents:

“The challenge here is... to see what could be done to restore this baby to the normal female appearance which would be compatible with her parents presenting her as a girl, with her eventually becoming somebody’s wife, and having normal sexual development, and becoming a mother. And she has all the machinery for motherhood, and therefore nothing should stop that, if we can repair her surgically and help her psychologically to continue to grow and develop as a girl.”

In the Q&A period, during a discussion of prenatal dex treatments, an audience member asked New, “Isn’t there a benefit to the female babies in terms of reducing the androgen effects on the brain?” New answered, “You know, when the babies who have been treated with dex prenatally get to an age in which they are sexually active, I’ll be able to answer that question.” At that point, she’ll know if they are interested in taking men and making babies.

In a previous Bioethics Forum post, Alice Dreger noted an instance of a prospective father using knowledge of the fraternal birth order effect to try to avoid having a gay son by a surrogate pregnancy. There may be other individualized instances of parents trying to ensure heterosexual children before birth. But the use of prenatal dexamethasone treatments for CAH represents, to our knowledge, the first systematic medical effort attached to a “paradigm” of attempting in utero to reduce rates of homosexuality, bisexuality, and “low maternal interest.”

So no more Elena Kagans, no more Donna Shalalas, no more Martina Navratilovas, no more k.d. langs, no more Constance McMillens—because all women must grow up to suck dick, crank out babies, and do women's work. And the existence of adult women who are not interested in "becoming someone's wife" and "making babies" constitutes a medical emergency that requires us to treat women who are currently pregnant with a dangerous experimental hormone. Otherwise their daughters might grow up to, um, be nominated to sit on the Supreme Court, serve as cabinet secretaries, take 18 Grand Slam singles titles, win Grammies, and take their girlfriends to prom.

And we can't have that.

Two things: Gay people have been stressing out about the day arriving when scientists developed treatments to prevent homosexuality. The preventing gay sheep freak out is here, Twilight of the Golds is here, and I recall—but can't quickly find a link for—a "fellow" at the Family Research Council or the American Family Association who backed in-utero hormone treatments to prevent homosexuality. Well, here we are—the day appears to have arrived. Now what are we going to do about it?

And will the Republicans on the Judiciary Committee invite Maria New to testify at Elana Kagan's confirmation hearings? New could argue that Kagan—childless, unmarried Kagan—is unfit to serve on our highest court because her "low maternal interest" pegs her as abnormal, well outside the "maternal mainstream." Maybe GOP senators would be mollified if Kagan knocked back a few bottles of dex during her confirmation hearings?

UPDATE: A little more about dex from Alice Dreger:

The specific drug we're talking about, dexamethasone, is not a benign drug for pregnant women, nor for the children exposed in utero. The studies we do have on the early prenatal use of "dex" are worrisome. The number of women and children missing from the follow-up studies of this drug use is more worrisome still.

This drug is unequivocally experimental and risky. That's why, back in February, I organized interested members of the Bioethics community to fight to make sure every woman offered dex for CAH knows the truth about its experimental and risky nature. (You can read about our efforts in Time magazine. And you can about the medical establishment's resultant mad scampering to make sure everyone knows this is experimental here.) Make no mistake: In spite of Dr. Maria New's outrageous FDA-regulation-flaunting claims that this off-label drug use "has been found safe for mother and child," it ain't been. New is a rogue pediatrician whom medical societies have been nudging (and sometimes yelling at) for years. Because she apparently wouldn't stop experimenting on these women and children without ethics oversight, in January I got called in to help by a few freaked-out clinicians. And I called in my colleagues to call out the feds. New just looks and sounds safe for mothers and children. Which is why she's really dangerous.

You Know What I Miss...

I miss looking forward to Saturday mornings. I miss the time when 10 pm was the beginning of the evening, not the end of the day. I miss my hair. I miss getting drunk with a room full of friends and then solving the problems of the universe. I miss having everyone I care the most about within a ten mile radius. I miss snowball fights. I miss engaging in pointless activities and not caring that they're pointless. I miss being a stagehand. I miss being able to get up fifteen minutes before I had to leave the house. I miss Shadow, and Midnight, and Dinker, and Tai, and Taj, and White Cat, and Grey Cat, but I don't miss that yappy Schnauzer. I miss D&D and late night cable. I miss sleepovers. I miss hot dogs and macaroni and cheese and cheap frozen pizza. I miss the morning headache that tells you you had too much fun the night before. I miss the Plaza Twin, and the Village Green, and the Cross County Eight, and the Town Theater. I miss the Lake Worth Playhouse. I miss my mom making a grocery bag, paper of course, full of popcorn and then bundling us into the station wagon in our jammies to go to the drive-in movies. I miss jammies. I miss not knowing so much, but thinking I knew more. I miss my mom, and I think I miss my dad, but I just don't remember. I miss Star Trek, and The Six Million Dollar Man, and The Wild Wild West, and Donny and Marie, and Space: 1999, and Battlestar Galactica(before it was all serious and gritty). I miss the Superfriends, and Johnny Quest, and Samson and Goliath, and anything narrated by Gary Owens. I miss picking my breakfast cereal based on which prize was in the box, not by the nutritional content. I miss breakfast cereal. I miss asking what's for dinner, instead of being asked.

And if you're reading this, it means I miss you, too, even if we've never actually met yet.

What do you miss?

Not the Worst Trek

The date was Saturday, December 8, 1979, and my brother and I were standing in a line at the Village Green movie theater that wrapped around the building. Winter hasn’t really begun in South Florida by December, and it was a sunny afternoon, so we weren’t uncomfortable, besides we were waiting to see Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Nothing could dampen our spirits. Now before you start rolling your eyes let me explain the state of Trek fandom at the time. The Original Series (TOS) went off the air in 1969, and with the exception of a brief foray on Saturday morning television as a cartoon, and some poorly made fanzines that were not readily available to a 15 year old boy in those pre-Internet days, we had seen nothing new from Star Trek. What we didn’t know was that Gene Roddenberry and Robert Justman had been working on bringing Trek back to the small screen with Star Trek Phase II, but then in 1977 Star Wars took the world by storm and Paramount decided they wanted a movie, not a TV series. I don’t really remember when I first saw the now famous rainbow ad for ST:TMP, but I do remember the thrill that coursed through my guts. I memorized the date, scrutinized the magazine racks and newspapers for any mention of the film, and waited. Finally the day came, and my mother dropped my brother and me off at the cinema, and we happily joined the queue.
The lobby was decked out with huge pictures of the new Enterprise including a cut-away poster showing the new interior layout, which I purchased for the princely sum of $5. I don’t think anyone was in costume that day, but I do recall seeing one of my teachers in the crowd. We found seats as close to the center of the auditorium as possible and, again, waited. After what seemed an eternity the lights dimmed, and the greatest event of my life to that point began. The next 2 hours seemed to go by at warp speed as I memorized every square centimeter of that gorgeous ship. To this day I feel that the flyby of the Enterprise that most people think is too long could be longer. I left that theater elated, overjoyed, and totally satisfied. What I didn’t realize at the time, and what took me four more viewings to get, was that the movie was completely lacking in all the things that made Star Trek something other than a hardware expo. I went from joy, to unease, to boredom, to outrage. How dare they give us Trek that was substandard?! I spent the next two and a half decades calling it The Motion Sickness, or The Motionless Picture, and until Star Trek V came out I considered it the worst film ever. (but I still loved the new ship, and built many a model)
Somehow, as the years went by, I grew to dislike TMP less and less. Then, last year, I picked up the special edition DVD at a second hand store and watched it with a more charitable eye. Yes, it is still the slowest moving movie of all time, and yes probably forty-five minutes of footage could be cut out without affecting the story one bit, and yes the script is almost a carbon copy of The Changeling, but all that being said there is a lot to like about the film. The ship was, and still is awesome. The effects were very good for their time, and a lot of what has become standard in the Trek universe was established in TMP (Klingons that look like aliens, the large, glowing warp core, Scotty’s mustache). And though the characterizations were stilted and dull, they weren’t out of character, just boring. Finally, when I was starting to actually like much of the movie, I listened to the commentary track. Director Robert Wise explained a lot of things that softened my view of the film even more. Some of the complaints about the film had to do with it being hugely over budget, but what never made it to the papers was that the money already spent on pre-production of Star Trek Phase II was put under the accounting umbrella of TMP, so more than half of the film’s expenditures had little to do with the movie. They were also saddled with an unreasonable, and non-negotiable release date, and as a result of the special effects companies being terribly behind schedule Wise never got a chance to screen the film to test audiences, or even to edit it much. He literally hand carried a still-wet print to the gala premier. Finally there were many visual effects shots that just never got finished, so a lot of the scenes seemed incomplete. In my opinion the director’s commentary on TMP should be required listening for any true Trek fan. It may not make you love the film, but it might help you hate it less.

I will grant that there were many flaws in The Motion Picture that had nothing to do with budget or schedules. The uniforms, while functional, were drab and unflattering. The dialogue, while more accurate from a ‘we’re really on a space ship’ sense seemed overblown and stilted. The ship’s interiors were sterile and monochrome, again probably more realistic, but not very fun to watch. And that, to me, sums up the largest problem with the film…it wasn’t fun. I just rewatched the director’s cut this evening. Wise cut it tighter, and the studio used excellent CGI to either finish or put in bits that were either undone, or unaffordable, but the sense of humor and fun that permeated all of TOS just wasn’t there. Roddenberry had brought in a NASA scientist to help make the new Enterprise seem as realistic as possible, and that lead to a kind of clinical sterility that just didn’t fit for Star Trek. All that being said, however, none of the cast behaved in ways that were grossly out of character; they just spent too much time staring at the view screen looking puzzled, and not enough time doing anything interesting.

So, I can forgive Star Trek, The Motion Picture many of its sins because it was the film that brought Star Trek back from the grave, and because even though it was not an exciting thrill ride, and even though it was pretty much a rehash of a much superior TOS episode, it didn’t violate canon, or make anyone do or say anything that was wrong, and it gave us a beautiful new ship to play with. It certainly wasn’t the best of the films, but it was, in my opinion, far and away not the worst.

Marius

The Paw Award

Welcome to the award winning(tm) Marius' Corner. I say award winning because the lovely, talented, and oh so tolerant Stinkypaw has bestowed upon me The Paw award.

Here is how she describes it: “The Paw” is intended to be a sign that says: this blogger is a good ‘blend’ of Stinkypaw and is not afraid to admit it. He/She is not easily offended, has a good sense of humour and most importantly doesn’t take him/herself too seriously. - Stinkypaw =^..^= I am very honored that this is my second Paw, and maybe, just maybe, this will be the kick in the ass I need to get me blogging a bit more regularly.

Merci beaucoup, Stinky!!

The Worst Star Trek Ever

For a while now there has been some discussion round t'Intertubes about the relative merits of the various Star Trek films. There is little question that Wrath of Khan and First Contact end up at the top of most people's list, but the bottom is often a hotly contentious subject. Well pull up some shuttlecraft wreckage and gather round as uncle Marius will tell you exactly why I think Star Trek V: The Final Frontier is the all time worst Trek film.

Let's start at the beginning with Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Now the reasons why this film wasn't very good are legion, and I shall not go into them in much depth (this time), but its two greatest sins were 1. it was boring, and 2. the character interactions were missing. When I saw TMP for the first time I left the cinema with my head full of the new Enterprise, and it took me four more viewings, again at the cinema as this was long before VCRs, before I began to realize that the movie was all about the hardware. I still love the long, to some overly long, fly-by of the Enterprise, but the rest of the movie is, indeed, dull. That being said there wasn't anything in TMP that violated the precepts of behavior or character that had been established in the previous fifteen years of television. Granted there was a lot missing, but nobody behaved grossly out of character. Thus the film was not very good as a movie, but as Star Trek it was merely lacking.

The next three films gave us all that we missed back in regard to character interaction and fun plot lines. The Kirk/Spock/McCoy dynamic was back, and the filmmakers made obvious efforts to redress the sins of the past by giving the rest of the crew significant parts to play. Of course there were missteps and plot holes, but that has always been part of the charm of Star Trek, and while they were careful to not take themselves too seriously, there was plenty of comic relief that was sadly lacking in TMP. Then along came The Final Frontier.

First of all let me say that I have read William Shatner's books about his experiences making Star Trek, and I don't buy his explanation that ST:V was ruined by studio meddling and budget cuts. ST:V was ruined by a ham handed director who tried to turn Star Trek into a comic parody of itself. The Saturday Night Live sketch where the Enterprise is turned into a restaurant was truer to the characters than ST:V. Kirk climbing a mountain was fine, but the rocket boots that Spock used were just ridiculous. The whole scene around the camp fire when Kirk and McCoy were trying to get Spock to sing was painful. Spock may be unemotional, but he's not stupid. He knows more about Earth history and behaviors than most humans on the show, but the concept of singing a round needs to be explained like he's a three year old? I could see where they were trying to go with the scene, but it just didn't work.

Then there were the three ambassadors. The human ambassador was fine, but the Klingon and Romulan ambassadors were almost Saturday morning cartoon caricatures. And then there was Captain Klaa (possibly the stupidest Klingon name ever), and a performance that would have made your average Power Rangers villain seem like Laurence fucking Olivier! Actually, now that I think about it, the only performance in the movie that was watchable was Laurence Luckinbill as Sybok. I won't debate the existence of Sybok as Spock's half-brother as that is one of the few plot points that didn't bother me, but Luckinbill brought subtlety and charm to this otherwise cardboard cutout of a movie.

And then there is Shatner's handling of the rest of the crew. Chekhov and Sulu were pretty much ignored, but Scotty's portrayal as a clueless, bumbling martinet who only thinks he knows his way around the ship was not only annoying, it was infuriating. And all I can say about Uhura's desert fan dance is WTF? I think Nichelle Nichols is a lovely person, and was still quite handsome in 1989, but the best diversion they could think of was to have a 57 year old woman do a fan dance? Not only was it incredibly stupid, it was insulting to all of the women who grew up respecting Uhura for not resorting to using sex as a means of forwarding her career. Compare her work in Star Trek III: The Search For Spock with Mr. Adventure in the Star Fleet transporter room to this farce of a diversion.

Yes, there were a few good moments in this crapfest of a film, but "Please sir, not in front of the Klingons", and "Excuse me, why does God need a starship?" are not enough to save this sinking turd. Taken just as a movie I rank it right up there with Mansquito or Jaws 3 in its amateurish lack of quality and substance, but as Star Trek this film was an insult to the fans, an embarrassment to the actors, and a festering blemish on the greatest Science Fiction series to date.

In my opinion, of course.

Marius

Jinkies!

Good gravy,y'all. The universe has been really kicking the glutes of your faithful(well, sort of) scribe of late. Amongst all the carnage and spewing of Mother Nature's vital, yet icky bodily fluids, there has been a great, terrible, and gradually settling upheaval here in Castle Marius. You see a few years ago, as was chronicled herein, I procured employment some forty-five miles from home. The commute was all freeway, and my new passion for podcasts ameliorated the drive, but there were many a night, especially when work ran late, when that long journey to and fro grew more than tiresome. Added to that my vessel, were she truly spaceworthy, would have recently passed beyond the orbit of the Moon, and so we felt it was time to move closer to the rest of the populated areas hereabouts. Fortunately the mighty and wonderful Sheeps (she who married Turtle about two years ago) had a place that needed tenants. So we moved in this past weekend. First of all let me extend a heartfelt thank you to all who helped schlep our crap over here, but by Beelzebub's brass balls this move has been a trauma and a half! We calculated that the two places were nearly the same in size, but it seems that we have far more junk than room. Things are gradually falling into place, but there was a time of panic on our first night here when we felt...well, ok, when I felt that we had made a grave error, but as I find more places for stuff my panic is dissolving into mere exhaustion. Getting old sucks ass!!! But this place, while in need of a bit of TLC for it sat vacant for nearly two years, is shaping up to be home now, and speaking as the one male in a house with two females, the three bathrooms more than make up for being a bit more cramped. :-) It's in a more urban area than I particularly care for, but Mrs. Marius, being far less hermit-like than myself, is very happy about that. And I must confess that there is just about any store we might need within ten minute's drive, which doesn't suck.

In world news the British elections were far more confusing than I imagined they could be, but from what I've gathered from my UK friends it might just end up being the best thing to happen over there, governmentally speaking, in a long time. Imagine if John McCain had won in 2008, but had to have Obama as his VP. They might actually have a Parliament that gets things done over there. Now if only we could get something like that here.

As for the oil spew in the Gulf, I'm of very mixed emotions. If it turns out that there was negligence, or actual malfeasance,then I say nail BP to the wall. If, however, this was truly just an accident then I don't know what to say. We all bitched up a storm when gas hit $4 a gallon, but the whole Not In My Back Yard attitude of people when it comes to oil drilling is a bit disingenuous, methinks. I would love to turn my car into an artificial reef, hook up a windmill, and ride my bicycle to work, but until that is feasible we need the oil companies...and they need to punch holes in the planet to find what we need. This is a terrible tragedy, and will only get worse before it gets better, but our absolute addiction to fossil fuels made something like this inevitable, and crying about it now, and especially blaming the government for it, really accomplishes nothing.

Let's end on a happy note. Due to the move, and various other factors tugging at our limited time resources Starbase 66 hasn't recorded a new show in nearly a month, but we are finally getting back together tonight and I can't wait! We really miss each other when we go this long without recording, and I am looking so forward to tonight's session. And I hope you are, too. :-)

OK, that's all for now. Stay safe, stay classy, or if you can't at least post lots of pictures. ;-)

Love and kisses,
Marius

A Message From Mars

A few years back someone handed me Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, and I read it. Most of it was common sense stuff and touchy-feely New Age pop-psychology, but there was one nugget of truth that actually was useful. In a nutshell it said that when men discuss a problem, they are trying to work out a solution. When women discuss a problem, they just want a sympathetic ear and are not necessarily looking for suggestions on how to solve said problem. The problem is that we genuinely need to try to solve these problems eventually. Especially me. It's what I do for a living. So if you've got a problem, say with your significant other, and you want to talk to me about it, I'll do my best to simply listen, commiserate, and only if asked offer advice. But, if the situation continues, and your guy, hypothetically, continues to treat you like shit, and you refuse to do anything about it my need to fix will outweigh your need to just be listened to. And the longer this goes on, the more frustrated I will get until eventually we'll run the risk of damaging our own friendship. So what I'm saying is that guys should learn to listen to their female friends/lovers/spouses, but ladies need to learn that if you're in a lousy situation that you have the power to change, but won't, we can only be a sympathetic ear for so long before we start telling you how to fix it, or go away...or both.

Just saying.

Marius

Frustration

As you know I haven't been blogging much, and this post will graphically demonstrate why. The universe is currently engaged in a campaign of continually kicking me in the balls, or so it seems anyway, and I haven't wanted to dump on you, dear readers. But I have to vent this somewhere. Frustration is the emotion I have the most problem dealing with, and it is the most frequent visitor of late. The major cause of this frustration is the CoA. She seems to have outgrown her ADHD, but has replaced it with something called Oppositional Defiance Disorder. She lies, she steals, she breaks every rule we have. She is twelve and a half, yet she acts like she's eight. We've had to leave her alone more and more, and every time she does something that drives me through the roof. And no matter what we try, either punishment for bad behavior, or reward for good, she's like a Borg. It all works once, maybe twice, then she adapts. Her therapist seems to be as frustrated as we are.
We are also in the process of moving, which has its own plethora of aggravations and frustrations, but nothing out of the ordinary. Just the fear that despite our best efforts we won't get our security deposit back, or that the homeowner's association at the new place won't accept our application.
Starbase 66 is more popular than ever, but due to our increasingly complex work schedules we've been having trouble getting together to record. This is not unexpected, nor particularly irksome, but it is another straw added to the pile. That being said the show is one of the highest of the high points of my life right now, and I love my cohosts and our fans.

There are other things, too, like friends who let their boyfriends treat them like shit, and the slow decay of my car, but I've already blathered enough here. Thanks for listening, if any of you have made it this far. Hopefully much of this stuff will clear itself up, and we'll be able to come up with a strategy to get the CoA under control. And if not, I'll just whine about it some more. ;-)

Love and kisses,
Marius

Keeping Your Geeks Straight

This was lovingly stolen from The Blogster of Amezzeray, who is a wonderfully fun young lady in jolly old England. (and just for the record I don't even own a pair of Spock ears) ;-)

Con-Census

It's been a while since I had a good outrage going. Don't get me wrong, the current political climate of bickering, back-biting, and outright lies and slander has made it difficult to even enjoy the antics of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, but that has me more sad and disillusioned than outraged. But then, two weeks ago, I got a letter in the mail. It was from the Census Bureau. I knew the census was nigh upon us, but it seemed awfully thin to be the census form. I opened it, and took out the letter that said, essentially, that in a week or so I'd receive my census form. Don't throw it away. The current US population is estimated to be somewhere in the vicinity of three-hundred-million people. Even if each letter cost a fraction of a penny to mail, and I'm reasonably sure it cost more than that, that's a shitload of money spent to tell me that something else is coming in the mail. Sure enough the form came in the next week, and I thanked my wonderful government for the warning because I nearly panicked when I saw that envelope in my mailbox. I mean, it was an envelope, in my mailbox! Fortunately, as I was getting ready to douse my mailbox in gasoline and set it ablaze, I remembered that I had, indeed, been warned that this form was coming, and I relaxed. It took all of five minutes to fill out and mail the form, and I went back to my daily life, secure in the knowledge that I had done my civic duty. But then, when I got home from work yesterday I found a surprise. A postcard from the fucking Census Bureau! 'You should have received your census form by now, blah, blah, blah'. Oh for fuck's sake!!! I know the census is important, and I know that people can be less than responsible about such things, but do we really need THREE MASS MAILINGS!? In this time of financial belt tightening, when schools and scientific research are being strangled by the ever-shorter purse strings, do we really need to waste this much time, money, and paper? I'm sure there is a tiny percentage of folks who this might make an impact on, but if someone is not going to fill out their census form, are they likely to read the first letter, or care about the follow-up postcard? Maybe I'm being naive, but it seems that maybe TV and radio ads would have been a better way to spend hundreds of millions to tell the American public that the census forms are not to be used to line bird cages. But what do I know about marketing?

Marius the Perplexed

Where I've Been

Yes, the Corner has been a dark, lonely place of late, and I do apologize, but as you're about to see sometimes the darkness and solitude are the best companions. Just to bring you up to speed Castle Marius is inhabited by myself, Mrs. Marius, Starbuck and Artemis (the two kitties-o-the-apocalypse) and the Child-o-the-Apocalypse(CoA). When Mrs. Marius and I met the CoA was 5, adorable, yet rather manic. It was early in our relationship that I asked if she had been tested for ADD, and later she was diagnosed with rather severe ADD, maybe even ADHD, with a touch of OCD thrown in for a good rounding out of the alphabet soup. We tried numerous medications, some worked, others didn't. Her current meds seem to help, or at least give us a fighting chance, for without them she is totally intransigent. Imagine living with a bipedal mule with a cat fetish. When her meds are in full function we still have trouble keeping her on task, but at least she is steerable. Once they wear off she becomes Kid Hyde. And to make matters far worse she is beginning puberty. She is seeing both a psychiatrist, and a psychologist, and lest you think we fall into that category of lazy parents who merely want their kids drugged into obedience til they turn 18 and can be kicked out of the party nest, both of her mental health caregivers fully endorse her seeing the other one. So this is the atmosphere here in the casa...oh, and one more thing. Due to Mrs. Marius's work schedule I do the lion's share of dealing with the CoA.

I'm not very good at it.

Without turning this into some Freudian couch surrogate let's just say that growing up my mother and two step-fathers seemed to consider us kids to be more of an irritant than anything else, and while I try my best to not be like that, as soon as she gets me angry, which is a daily occurrence lately, I transform into a screaming, door-slamming Hulk-version of my mother. Fortunately I've never allowed myself to beat her with a hairbrush, or wooden spoon, or any other implement, nor has she been slapped across the face, or had her mouth taped shut, or her hands tied to her waist, or any of the other fun times I had as a kid. But she gets me so furious that I will often say hurtful things, and then when I calm down not only am I enraged at her, I'm furious with myself as well. And on top of all this fun is the fact that she refuses to act her age. Her councilor, who is usually one to allow the CoA to come to her own conclusions and suggest better behavioral modalities, point blank told her that were she to guess how old CoA was based solely on her behavior she'd say 6 years old. And this is the crux of my absence. Imagine having to micromanage a teenaged 6 year old. She lies, she steals, we can't leave her alone for more than a few hours lest we find all sorts of things missing and later hidden in her room. A few weeks ago I had to hide all the tweezers in the house because she had stuck a pair in an electrical outlet. I am quite literally at my wits end, and so when I don't blog, or show up for online gatherings, it's usually because I had intended to, but by the time she is finally in bed I'm so enraged/exhausted that all I want to do is pop a Xanax and become a zombie. So that's where I've been. I welcome any advice y'all might have, but please, if you plan to tell me that it will 'only get worse from here' I heard that one before.

F*#k Yeah!

Brilliant Rebuttal

This year's Superbowl was a fantastic game, but what wasn't so fantastic was some of the commercials. Many of them were funny, my favorite being the Doritos ad where the dog put his shock collar on the asshole in the park, but an embarrassingly misogynistic and Neanderthal string of ads seemed to make the statement, 'Hey, guys. Has your wife ripped your balls off? Then drink Bud Light and drive a Dodge!' These ads made The Honeymooners seem enlightened and I found them to be annoying and offensive. So did these people:


And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make dinner and do the laundry. :-)

Craig Bevan: Musician Extraordinaire

Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Craig Bevan. Craig is one of the Simply Syndicated podcasters, a really nice guy, and an incredibly talented musician. Craig is participating in Live and Unsigned, a UK talent competition that could lead to a performance in front of thousands, and a recording contract. I urge you to watch the following video of Craig's latest song.



Please help spread the word about Craig. Feel free to take any or all of what I've put here and pass it along. I've seen plenty of 'amateur' performers in my day, and I'm not easily impressed, but Craig is the real deal. And if you are in the UK consider going to the show to support Craig in person.

Here is the press release from Live and Unsigned that explains things in more detail:
Local talent shines in the UK’s biggest original music competition.


Craig Bevan from Leeds has wowed the judging panel and sailed through the audition stage of Live and Unsigned. Craig will now be competing against the other most talented bands and artists in the country at the live shows of Live and Unsigned 2010 – all in a bid to be signed!
Craig battled against hundreds of auditionees to secure a spot in the live shows and now has the opportunity to prove that he is the best in the region. Acts that have made it through auditions will now take part in a live head to head battle in front of thousands of spectators and a professional judging panel to progress to the Live and Unsigned Festival at the 02 in London.
Live and Unsigned is the biggest original music competition in the UK for unsigned bands and artists. Attracting over 30, 000 entries in the past three years, it has set itself apart from its predecessors by offering and promoting originality. It’s now established as the definitive music competition for original acts and is open to all genres of music from Heavy Rock to Rap.
Chris Grayston, Events Director of Live & Unsigned explains “This competition really is worlds apart from X Factor and other TV talent contests – we’re all about originality, Live ability and credibility. We don’t accept demos or submissions and everyone auditions live. We’ve got some fantastic prizes up for grabs this year in a £60, 000 prize pool so there’s a lot of opportunity for everyone entering and not just the winners – that, along with the Festival means 2010 will be the biggest competition yet!”

All the acts that audition in the competition are battling it out for the chance to play at the Live and Unsigned Festival at the 02 in London! Which gives acts the chance to perform at the ultimate live music venue in the country. The overall winner of the competition is offered a recording and management contract with Future Music with an investment of up to £30, 000 to release their single. The winners will be crowned the UK’s best unsigned act in front of a capacity crowd on the main stage of the festival. A&R and celebrity judges last year include former Sex Pistols Manager Malcolm McLaren, pop RnB star Dane Bowers and Radio 1’s Annie Nightingale. Radio 1 DJ Greg James has already confirmed for 2010.

Acts will of course be competing for two main prizes, which include a management contract with Future Music and the opportunity to design and develop their own clothing range with Extreme State. On route the competition offers a comprehensive winners prize pool and acts will have the opportunity to win some fantastic prizes including Marshall state of the art amps, development through recording studio time in some of the UK’s finest studios and seminars and courses with ICMP. Other goodies up for grabs include an Extreme Element experience day, a year's worth of Extreme State clothing and MUZU.TV will be contributing an all expenses paid trip to Dublin to film a music video and play at a festival.

Previous winners of the competition include Kiddo 360 who went on to pick up a Vodafone Live Award, B-Kay and Kazz who broke into the top 30 charts and last year’s winners from Glasgow The Detours who have just signed an exclusive clothing deal with Extreme.

The winners of 2010 will be thrust into the media spotlight through television, radio and the press and will have the opportunity to tour the UK. The tour involves as many as 100 gigs across the UK including the chance to perform live at some well-known festivals. One contestant who has caught the judge’s eye this year is local talent Craig Bevan, now competing in the Regional Final. Craig made it through the auditions at The Willows in Salford, Manchester amongst hundreds that queued for their turn in front of the judges. Craig is now preparing for the live show on the 7th of March at The Willows for the opportunity to progress towards the Live and Unsigned festival at the O2 in London.

For more information go to the website www.LiveandUnsigned.UK.com. Or better still come down and support local talent; you can purchase tickets on the door or from Craig personally.

The Nerve!

Some people feel that life is too short to be spent awake.

Why?

A couple of months ago I became aware of a website called forumspring.me where you can set up an account and people can ask you questions anonymously if they wish. Someone suggested I give it a try, and since I am a total internet attention whore I did.(http://www.formspring.me/AdmiralMarius) At first the questions came in slowly, and were fairly mundane, but I did my best to answer them in as smart-assed a way as I could. Soon I was getting tens of questions a day and I did my best to keep the answers at the very least weird, and hopefully entertaining. You can check them out if you wish, ask a question if you want, or don't, it's all good. But tonight someone asked me "Why? WHY?" and I'm rather proud of my answer so I thought I'd share it with you.

Because approximately 15 billion years ago something, maybe two branes colliding, caused an explosion of matter and an expansion of what we call the universe. Particles were created in this unimaginable furnace and raced at speeds in excess of the current speed of light to fill the rapidly spreading void. Soon, by cosmic standards, the heat dissipated to the point where gravity, electromagnetism, and the strong and weak nuclear forces took hold and the mist of particles began to coalesce into the structures we now call planets, stars, galaxies, nebulae, seahorses, artichokes, internal combustion engines, and ultimately, this website. And that, despite what a series of pleasant but fictitious books will tell you, is about as close to why as you're ever likely to get.

Sleep well, kiddies.

Marius, out!

Middle Aged

Well, I think I've figured out at least part of what's been bugging me lately. 45. I remember, vaguely, turning 30. A lot of people freak out when they are about to turn 30, as if they will suddenly shrivel up and become elderly. I slid past 30 with nary a ripple(well, at least until I cut the end of my thumb off six days later, but that's another tale) and the rest of my fourth decade on Earth was not all that different from those that preceded it. Even turning 40 wasn't that bad, and I don't even remember it. But now I'm 45, and it's bugging the ever-loving shit out me. I'm too old to think I'm as young as I think I am, and every time I pass a mirror it shocks me. And I'm too young to think I'm as old as I sometimes feel...again that bastard mirror and I just aren't getting along. I've never exactly been a sex symbol, but the thought that my students think of me as a father figure, which was once a very wonderful thought, now just reminds me that though my wife has yet to kick me out of the bedroom, I am now firmly in the 'ewwww!' category when it comes to imagining the carnal side of things. I know that this will pass...I hope...but while I've joked about my age since my late twenties, this 45 business has thrown me for a loop.

Anyway, if I've been grumpy lately, I think that's why, and I apologize. I'll try to be more cheerful in the future. But until then, GET OFF MY LAWN!!

Marius the Ancient

Action Cats

Don't blink or you'll miss them!

Theivery!!!

The lovely and talented Camille posted this on her lovely and wonderful blog If You've Got It, Flaunt It, and I liked it so much I just had to steal it.

THIS...IS...Florida?

OK, it is January, which means it should be chilly outside, but this is ridiculous!





Of course, when it's the middle of August, and you can melt lead on the sidewalk, I'm sure I'll gaze longingly at these pics, but right now all I can say is BRRRRRRR!!!

M..m..m...marius

The Doctor is Out...and In.

Well, tonight was the premier in the US of the final episode of Doctor Who featuring the dreamy, dishy David Tennant. Now before we go any further let me just say that this post will be LOUSY with spoilers, so if you haven't seen The End of Time parts one and two run along and do so. We'll wait.....................

Oh, right, this isn't real time. OK, then, allons-y!

In 1980 or so I was watching the smallish black and white TV in my bedroom when a strange electronic music came on and a diamond shaped symbol seemed to tumble down a multi-colored(or so I had to assume) tunnel. Then the words Doctor Who popped up. I had heard of Doctor Who, and had even seen Doctor Who and the Daleks as a child, but those 1960s movies bore little resemblance to the wonders I was about to behold. A beautiful woman, Sarah Jane Smith, was helping up a man who seemed a stranger, and a friend all at once. He was tall, with a bushy head of ginger curls and a hawkish nose. But his eyes twinkled like every imp ever imagined, and his smile lit the universe. Tom Baker had just taken the mantle, and long scarf, of Doctor Who. I watched him fight Daleks, and Sontarans, and Cybermen, and glowing plastic-wrap-cellophane cabbage monsters. Eventually Sarah left, and the feral but smoking hot Leela joined the TARDIS crew along with the dogamaton K-9. The show was cheese with a capitol CHEE, but it always stayed just serious enough to be fun. And the Doctor was always the center of the fun. When he got serious, you knew everyone was in deep kimchee.
I ate up the low budget special effects and over-dramatic acting because everyone was so committed to their parts that when a man was crushed to death between two mummybots in a way that could only be seen as silly, you rolled with it and felt a bit scared. What they lacked in cash they more than made up for with atmosphere, with great acting, and with a sense of fun that made it all work.

Then Baker decided to move on, or was moved on, I never really found out, and I reacted like many folks are reacting right now to David Tennant's departure. I won't like anyone else who dares to play the Doctor. And I was right. I took one look at Peter Davison in his cricket outfit and knew I wanted nothing to do with him.

Fast Forward a couple of decades and I hear of a new Doctor Who series on the horizon. Peter Eccleston is to play the homeless Time Lord this go round. Never heard of him, but I'll give it a chance. He was kinda goofy looking, with a rubbery face and tea pot ears, but I warmed to him right away and after only a few episodes I was hooked. Plus his new companion, Rose, was incendiary. They had many fun adventures which culminated with the Doctor nearly giving his life to save humanity. And in the process he triggered his regeneration. After only one season, he flippin' regenerated!! I was pissed! I liked Eccleston. I trusted him as the Doctor. I wanted more, God dammit! But the goofy, almost clownish face was replaced by an aquiline, narrow face with unruly brown hair and bird-bright eyes. This Doctor was a bit less scrappy, but he was certainly more dreamy. The Doctors on the whole haven't been known for being an overly good looking lot, but David Tennant is quite attractive. And he grew on my very fast. He was quick with a joke, or a smile, but there was always a subtext of sadness about him that really made the character come to life for me, and he is a good enough actor to know when and how much of that sadness to let through. There have been some clunkers on Tennant's watch. Planet of the Dead was terrible, as was the one with the little fat monsters, but overall it was a good run of shows, and they saved the Earth/Universe many times. But ultimately it came time for Tennant to leave, so what better way than to have him fight not only The Master, his arch enemy, but also the resurrected Time Lords themselves! That was a twist I did not expect. And the final battle was less about warriors, and rested squarely on the triangular antagonism between Rassalon(President of the Time Lords), The Doctor, and The Master. Of course the correct action is taken and the Earth is saved, but not the Doctor. Damaged beyond repair he knows he must regenerate soon. What then follows is, to me, an overly sentimental montage of the Doctor visiting his former companions so he can look wistfully at them from afar before turning, always sadly, away. Then he launches the TARDIS afer a quick chat with an Ood, and in the process of regenerating blows up the interior of the time capsule. Now granted I'm no Whovian scholar, but when did regeneration become The Quickening? Anyway, new Doctor shows up, realizes the ship is crashing, and proceeds to try to get everything under control. Cue music.

I liked it. I liked Tennant, but with Doctor Who you know that you don't get to keep them all that long, so I was not that upset by Tennant leaving. If the new guy does a good enough job then I'll stick around. If not, weeeeellllll, there are plenty of other shows out there Donna...sorry, Martha...I mean Rose. I've enjoyed enjoying Doctor Who again after all these years, and I'm excited to see what's next.

That's all for now. Beddy bye time.

So long, Mr. Tennant. You will be missed.

Adieu.
Marius

The Year of Feathers and Anvils

Well, this time last year I was wallowing in sorrow and self-pity. This year has been better, but it has been a very strange December. Part of it was the absence of my mother, which in itself is still a bit of a raw nerve, but I just couldn't get into the Christmas spirit this year. Part of it was me being bummed that I wasn't going to get to go down to South Florida this year due to child care issues, but at the last minute my In-Laws ex machina flew the COA to them in Mississippi, so I was able to go. Then, just before Christmas the radiator in my wife's car cracked, and we had to replace it. "Shall I cancel my trip?" quoth I. "NO!" my wife emphatically replied. I guess I was getting a bit edgy. So Sunday I drove the 200+ miles and expected a fun time. But when I woke up Monday morning I felt crappy. The cold that had been deviling my wife and the COA for weeks chose to wait til I was far away to sink its virusey claws into me. So rather than do my usual running all over trying to see everyone I could, I took it easy. The plan was to stay through the New Year, then maybe drive up the West Coast and visit friends on the way home. Yesterday I felt great, it seemed I was victorious, and celebrated with some wine and a late evening of poker. But this morning I awoke feeling like a steam roller had run me over. I had enough, and decided to come home, as the only thing I really wanted was my own bed. So now I'm home, and feeling slightly better, but still weak and shaky. I saw some of my dearest friends, but missed others, and for that I'm sorry. The COA comes home tomorrow, and then reality begins anew on Monday.

As I ponder this year, I cannot help but think it was an ok one. I thank all that is good in the world for my family, and for my friends both 'real' and 'imaginary'. And I must rejoice in the new-found friendship of my shipmates, Karen and Kennedy, and their amazing work on the Starbase this year.

I am looking forward to 2010. We'll be moving in the summer, and I'm going to try my best to stop being so stressed about everything. I hope to be a better husband, father, podcaster, and blogger. I hope to get back into my armor, and onto the lyst field, and by virtue of that back into some smaller jeans.

And so I wish you all a very happy 2010. Let's make it the best one ever! ;-)

Live long, and party on.
Marius

Santa Paws Update

Wow! I got a box from Ohio yesterday that had me puzzled. But once I opened it and saw this:

I was blown away. The kitty paw quilt is gorgeous, and the homemade yummies are...well, yummy! I have deduced that my Secret Santapaws lives at When Life Gives You Scraps-Make a Quilt, and I send my most heartfelt thanks! I'm still working on mine, trying to make a tasty treat that is distinctly Southern, yet mailable. I'm closing in on it after some dismal failures yesterday. This is so much fun! :-)

More Two Lumps

I swear the people that make this strip know Starbuck.


Two Lumps

So All I Wanted To Do Was Read a Good Book...

But a certain someone had other plans.

Meerkat: The Final Frontier

Set Dreidels to Stun

This almost makes me wish I was Jewish.*








*This isn't a slight against Jews. I'm just not that keen on any religion.

War on Christmas?

I have a friend on Facebook with whom I went to high school. She and I are very different politically, and today she sent me a virtual button that read 'You can say Merry Christmas to me.' I will admit I'm a bit testy this season, due to it being the first year since my mom passed away and all, but it did touch a nerve that has been getting increasingly more raw with every holiday season. I have nothing against Christmas. It gets me lots of time off, new toys, an excuse to visit family and friends, and I kinda like Christmas music. But what has been getting me more and more steamed is the conceit that some Christians have that they own December, and anyone saying 'Happy Holidays' is essentially saying 'fuck Christmas'. Well, a quick internet search shows that December is filled with non-Christmas holidays. Here are a few of them:
AIDS Awareness Day
Rosa Parks Day
International Day of Disabled Persons
Hanukkah
Volunteer Day
St. Nicholas Day
Civil Aviation Day
Human Rights Day
Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe
Ice Cream and Violins Day
St. Lucy Day
Bill of Rights Day
Forefathers' Day
Maritime Day
Christmas Eve
Christmas Day
Boxing Day
Kwanzaa
New Year's Eve

And that's not including the dozens, probably hundreds of state, county, and city level observances. So I ask you, Right Wing, which of these holidays threatens Christmas so? And before you tell me that the US was founded by Christians, which is a fact I do not dispute, these Christians were also slave owners and genocides, so does that mean we bring back the block and smallpox blankets? As I said, I have no problem with Christmas, and I have yet to either be upset by, or see anyone else get upset by the phrase 'Merry Christmas'. What I have seen people object to is the use of public funds for Christmas decorations but not for Hannuka or Kwanzaa, or any other holiday trappings and I can't say that I can find fault in that. Some Christians need to learn that you aren't the only people in this country, and 'Happy Holidays' is an expression of tolerance and inclusion. And while we're on the subject, December 25th was co-opted by the early church as Christmas because many of the earlier religions celebrated the solstice in late December, so they wisely adopted the holly, and evergreen tree, and yule log of those pagan rites into Christmas. Most historians believe, based on the Biblical texts, that Christ was born sometime around June, July, or August. So wish me a Merry Christmas if you wish, and I will smile and return the greeting. But if someone wishes you Happy Holidays, how's about you emulate your Lord and Saviour, and accept it as the heartfelt expression of inclusion and fellowship that it is. And trust me, Hannity, Limbaugh, Olberman and their ilk count on you to get all fired up by their rhetoric for no other reason than to boost ratings. There is no war on Christmas. There is only a war on common sense and freedom of religion.