He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. And now how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here gazed those eyes that women loved I know not how oft. Where be your quips? your derring? your do? your flashes of phaser fire that were wont to set the universe afire?
Total Pageviews
Wednesday, April 02, 2025
Professor Arbogast
Tuesday, April 01, 2025
The Stars Are Women
The kitchen is all rounded corners and pastel colours, cozy and functional, standing room only. Aldebaran plays host; like all the other stars here, she wears a form-fitting evening gown that glows the wearer's signature colour; in Aldebaran's case, red. She's chatting with Antares and Capella when the front door chimes; in walk Vega and Pollux.
"You look radiant," Aldebaran says, embracing both stars in a searing hug.
"Technically, we're all radiant," Pollux quips, and all the ladies laugh.
The party spills into the dining room. Rigel and Canopus are dancing a slow waltz while others chat about family groupings of stars, extolling the virtues of the common binary and trinary units while bemoaning the fates of the poor singular stars. Blonde Sol fumes with arms crossed, tired of the ancient condescension. Her gaze smoulders.
But all their gazes smoulder. Petite, spicy redhead Wolf 359 glances sidelong at Sol, extends a hand, gently drags her solitary companion to the balcony. They look out into the infinite night, the other guests still light years distant but drawing inexorably closer as the universe shrinks.
Flames dance on their shoulders, sparks pop and rise from their torchlit hair. She doesn't say it, but Sol misses her humans, the only intelligent life that ever arose in this slowly constricting, inexorably cooling cosmos.
"I really liked your 'billions and billions' guy," Wolf 359 offers. "He had a better grasp of things than most."
Sol nods.
"I guess it's better that they were around for a while rather than not at all," she says.
"Maybe the next time around will be more interesting," Wolf 359 says.
"We'll never know," Sol says.
They watch the final starset together. It takes slightly less than eternity.
Monday, March 31, 2025
Avian Visitor
Sunday, March 30, 2025
The Green Hornet
Saturday, March 29, 2025
Mister Christmas Pants
Friday, March 28, 2025
The Spirit
Thursday, March 27, 2025
Pasha Moustasha Ali-Pasha
Wednesday, March 26, 2025
Professor Van Helsing
Tuesday, March 25, 2025
We Named the Dog Indiana
Monday, March 24, 2025
F.B. McGinty
I tried to create a proper tartan, but at this scale . . . yikes. Still, it looks okay to the naked eye.
Sunday, March 23, 2025
Mr Bendig, the Grocer
Saturday, March 22, 2025
Friday, March 21, 2025
Thursday, March 20, 2025
Oily Copra Trader
Wednesday, March 19, 2025
Colonel Sir John Ripperton
Tuesday, March 18, 2025
Delta Bluesman
I'm a wand'rin delta bluesman
Miles and miles from home
'Cept for my bedrool and my guitar
I wander all alone
Stickin' close to the Ole Miss shoreline
Catfishin' for my meals
Singin' 'bout my dear Mary
And how her loss still feels
Monday, March 17, 2025
Vernal Geekquinox 2025: Old Fashioned Feast and Friendship
On Saturday night, Ellen and Pete once again put on a spectacular multi-course meal for a bunch of us to celebrate the coming of spring and the bonds of friendship that have lasted for so many years. Pete designed the menu above and the menu we ate, and every bite was a delight.
In keeping with the loose 1950 North Americana theme, we began by snacking on devilled eggs and Cheez Whiz-filled celery sticks. What a throwback to childhood! Then, Pete delivered a heaping plate of rumaki--bacon wrapped around water chestnuts and chicken livers, marinated in some sort of delicious sauce. Despite finding liver traumatizing, the tiny bits of chicken liver in this dish did nothing to detract from the savory delight of what was a new experience for me. Sylvia went to town on these, and I can't blame her!
The main course also included--HOORAY--Yorkshire pudding, a Woods family favourite. Light, fluffy perfection.
Poor Pete and Ellen run themselves ragged preparing these meals while also circulating with the guests. We love them for it!
I love that Geekquinox brings together the guys and gals of our friends group. The women did a great job of bringing some 50s fashion to the festivities.
Sylvia and I couldn't stay for the shrimp cocktail, French onion soup, or dessert, but even so we were there for about eight hours of lovely conversation and reconnections. In these rough times, such moments are genuine treasures.
Sunday, March 16, 2025
Vengeance of the Wolf Man
Saturday, March 15, 2025
Bing Crosby Image Search
Friday, March 14, 2025
Bob Hope: Mini Golfer, or Golfer Mini?
Thursday, March 13, 2025
Bowery Boys
Dese five yoots may be technically delinquents, see? But that's because they ain't got nothin', least of all respect, and they have to fight for every scrap. They got a code, they ain't bullies, and they ain't rats. They just wanna get out of the Bowery, and who can blame 'em? These kids got gumption. If adults would just give 'em have the chance, why, they'd show the world they mean somethin'. Tell the chief you heard that from me, Benny Cough Drops. <cough><cough>
Wednesday, March 12, 2025
Tropical Castaway
Tuesday, March 11, 2025
Miss Marple
Monday, March 10, 2025
Hurcule Poirot
Sunday, March 09, 2025
A Pair of Gangland Gals
Forthright, fearsome, and fashionable. Unfortunately, these are among a batch of figures with a weird layer of dusting left behind by the matte varnish spray. The problem came and went within one can; weird.