Just some quick updates as I was away from my computer at a conference for work last week. Whew! What a week!
Anyway, just some random thoughts…
Hamas winning control of the Palestinian Parliament. Isn’t it interesting that I saw Condi Rice on CNN today declaring that the US won’t, under any circumstances, deal with the new Palestinian Government. Bush said much the same thing at a cabinet meeting today. Amusing how we hold ourselves up as the paragons of democracy, and feel it necessary to bring our way of life to the rest of the world. But, when the Bush administration DOESN’T get its way, doesn’t get the leaders THEY hand picked, it’s time to sing a different tune. I can hear the gasping and sputtering at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue over here in Cleveland. “What! Gasp! They’ve elected officials we didn’t approve?!? This nonsense would never fly in Iraq, or Afghanistan! Well, who cares if they are duly and legitimately elected members of a foreign government! They’re not our puppet politicians! They’re not our stooges! Democracy, Shmerocracy! This won’t do at all! At least we won’t have this problem when we invade Iran and rename it East Texas!”
The whole argument here is that Hamas is terrorists. And, to some extent, that’s true. But I will admit some bias here on my part. I look at the Palestinian people and don’t see suicide bombers, martyr videos, or wacky Islamic fundamentalists. I see a people who were displaced by a bunch of close-minded white guys in Europe and America who felt that they needed to somehow make amends for not catching on to Hitler and Goerring’s Final Solution earlier. The aftermath of World War II, added to the decisive victory of the Israelis during the Seven Day War, gave them a mandate. (Hmmm. Now who else had a ‘mandate’? I know I just heard that from some politician? Hmmm… A ‘mandate’ to continue a war of aggression. If I think about it, I’m sure it’ll come to mind…{cough,cough}George Bush{cough,cough}) It was this arrogant act of colonialism that put in place an opportunity for an oppressed people (the Jews) to become the oppressors (Arabs).
I know this will put me on some terrorist watch list, but I really think there is a fine line between terrorism and freedom fighting. Now let me backtrack a little here. It is NEVER right, in ANY circumstance, to strap a couple of pounds of plastique to your chest and walk into a crowded marketplace. That is terrorism, no doubt about it. But I think it’s important to look at the causes of such behavior. It’s important to ask where such rage and hate and disregard for one’s fellow man comes from. And I firmly believe that it comes from the oppresion of the Palestinian people by the Israelis. As I said, I have a bias here; and that bias has to do with my own heritage. You see, I’m Irish. And, the situation in Israel reminds me, in no small way, of the conflict in North Ireland. You have a minority, in a position of power, who are oppressing another portion of the populace. Whether it’s Israel, North Ireland, or even South African Apartheid in the 80’s - -it’s an abuse of power that is institutionalized and made possible by the last vestiges of colonialism; a doctrine that still hangs on in certain parts of the world despite the fact that it should have been made illegal at the end of the Victorian era.
And here we have King George, all angry and indignant because democracy - the one thing he says he holds most sacred – actually worked. On top of that, add the fact that even though it was legitimate and shows that Democracy does work, he has to have a pout and sulk because it wasn’t what he wanted. Unbelievable. If I were president, we’d cut the strings and very plainly and vocally let the world know that Israel was on it’s own. Besides probably helping our image in the Middle East as allies to the “evil Zionist state”, it would force Israel to continue it’s oppression of women and children; only without the tacit approval of the most powerful country in the world. If Israel was ALONE, looking across the vast, coffee-colored Middle Eastern desert at several million angry, dark, and bloodthirsty Arab eyes; it’d work its shit out real quick. Sort of like the mouthy bully who knows that his bigger brother is standing behind him, Israel can be cocky and selfassured. Lose the brother though, and look out! Someone’s getting a beating! But, that’s why I ain’t in charge!
Meh, what’s it matter when all is said and done. It’s all tied to the money anyway. The US has a vested interest in having a foothold in the Middle East (not so important now, but it was before we made Iraq and Afghanistan the 51st and 52nd states, respectively) and we’re in too deep. I expect a mushroom cloud somewhere in the vicinity of the holy city some time within the next decade. Mark my words….
On to two other quick links (if you’re still reading…)!
I saw this one and it creeped me out! Go back through my archives and you’ll notice back around Halloween 2005 I made a list of things that scare the hell out of me. Bigfoot is at the top of that list. This link shows a cleanup of the famous Patterson Sasquatch film, taking out all of the camera shakes. Creepy, but cool also…
Then I saw this Blog. It was so funny I laughed out loud, causing people around me at work to look at me like I was insane. I get that a lot. The funny part is that, at any given time, my kids are running around the house and randomly breaking out into Wookiee at one another. It comes from having a Star Wars geek for a father…
Taking over the world... one undead soul at a time.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Thursday, January 19, 2006
An Excerpt from my New Novel
Here’s a small excerpt from my newest sci-fi/horror novel. It’s been only marginally proofed and is still in the first draft stage…
To give you some back story…We join our protaganists, Sullly and Laura as they come upon a horrible scene while backpacking on Pike’s Peak, Colorado. Sully is an outdoor clothing company representative that gets talked into guiding Laura on a few days hiking trip. Laura is a Olympic Gold Medalist and extreme sport clebrity who is being wooed by Sully’s company. Unknown to either of them, a weaponized virus has been accidentally released by a research scientist. In their time on the mountain, the virus has spread and the world some14,000 feet below them has started to fall apart. The virus turns its victims into insane, skinless, perversions of nature. It twists the bones and makes the infected walking nightmares. This is their first sign that things aren’t the way they were before they left…
“It’s kind of creepy, Sully,” Laura observed.
“I was thinking the same thing, Laura,” I said. As we began slowly walking towards the small gift shop, I explained my misgivings.
“You’re not reassuring me, honey,” she said, trying to keep things light.
I tried to shrug my unease off, “I’m just being stupid, it’s probably just…”
My voice trailed off as we came around the corner of the building and I saw an empty green Jeep Cherokee, the logo of the National Park Service on its side. It was parked at an angle in front of the shop. The trail had come up behind the gift shop and the building had obscured the Jeep.
Upon seeing it though, I felt a shiver run down my spine and gooseflesh break out all over my body.
The driver door was open and both the Jeep’s interior, and the snow around the Jeep, was churned up and stained red with what looked like blood.
A lot of blood.
“All right, now my spider sense is tingling, Sully,” Laura said, after we stood dumbstruck looking at the carnage before us.
“Mine too, Laura,” I said.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she said.
“That’s no moon,” I replied, without thinking.
“What?”
“Never mind,” I said, realizing it was shock speaking,
I shucked off the straps of my pack and knelt, setting it on the ground in front of me. I unlashed my ice axe from the webbing on the pack and stood, leaving my pack on the ground. Laura saw me do this and followed suit.
“Stay here, Laura,” I said, “I’m going to get a closer look.”
“Like hell you are,” she said, “First rule of horror movies; never separate. That’s how the bad things happen.”
I looked at her and saw immediately that no amount of arguing was going to dissuade her. I sighed and nodded.
I began walking the rest of the way towards the Glen Cove Inn. I suddenly noticed how loud our boots were as they crunched in the snow. The sound seemed to be almost overwhelming in the thin atmosphere. As I neared within ten feet of the Jeep, I motioned for Laura to stay where she was. She complied with no argument or and I snuck closer to the Jeep.
The first thing I noticed was an unmistakable coppery smell that confirmed that the red was definitely blood. The blood was bright red in the clear, cold air and it was sprayed all about the interior of the truck. I looked inside and saw that the carnage had saturated the floor and carpet. Here and there were more solid red bits that could only have been chunks of flesh.
I was so not all right with the way this looked.
“What do you see?” Laura whispered, leaning towards me expectantly.
“It looks like a charnel house,” I said, slowly moving around to the rear or the Jeep. There was nobody inside or behind it.
I returned to Laura’s side and we had a hurried, whispered conference.
“I’m wondering if maybe it was a bear attack,” I said, not really believing it.
“Black bear don’t normally attack people, do they?” Laura said, as though she had read my mind.
“Mama bears do. But, what worries me is that,” I pointed to the front of the jeep at the ground between it and the gift shop. There was a single track of bloody footprints leading up the shoveled path to the porch and into the Inn.
“Why’s it worry you?” Laura asked. I could tell by her expression that she really didn’t want to know, but had to.
“No bear in the Jeep, so it wasn’t a road kill or a shot bear. No bear tracks, so it didn’t attack whoever was in the Jeep here. And there are no drag marks, which there would be if the bear attacked here. There’s just too damned much blood for the attack to not have happened here.”
“Shit,” Laura said.
“I need to go inside and see if someone’s been hurt. Do you want to stay here?” I asked her.
“No way. We’re a team. If you go, I go.” Laura said tightening her grip on her ice axe.
I looked back at the Glen Cove Inn and saw that it was dark. The carnage in and about the Jeep was disturbing enough, but I still couldn’t get past the idea that this place should have been crawling with tourists dressed too lightly for the cold and gasping for breath in the thinner air like fish in an empty bucket.
I twisted my neck, cracking the vertebra there, sighed, and made my way towards the darkened gift shop.
I tried looking through the windows in the door, but the interior was too dark for me to see anything. Laura tried the other one and shook her head, indicating she had no better luck. I nodded and hefted my ice axe. With my other hand, I slowly turned the doorknob until I felt it unlatch. I then gave the door a nudge with the toe of my boot, grabbing the handle of my heavy aluminum ice axe. The axe felt good in my hand. It had just the right weight to it and it was topped with a twelve-inch blade that tapered to an adequately sharp point. I had slipped my wrist into the loop at the end of the handle to prevent my dropping it if shit went downhill fast.
The door creaked open slowly and I was immediately struck by a smell that I remembered from my youth. I had grown up in Ohio, and like many Ohioans, had deer hunted every winter. I no longer hunted, but I remember my first deer kill like it was yesterday. The worst part about killing a deer is gutting it afterwards. I still shudder to think of how hot the inside of a freshly killed deer is when you plunge your hands into it. Worse than that, though, is the smell that rises from the open carcass. It’s a hot, earthy, pungent smell that is redolent with the penny-like smell of blood, and bile, and piss, and fecal matter.
That’s the smell that emitted from the now ajar door. This smell though, had a different quality to it. I couldn’t explain what it was, but my stomach rolled greasily as I realized that what I smelled was what a gutted human would smell like.
Before I lost my nerve, I kicked the door the rest of the way open.
I saw that the bloody footprints continued across the plank floor and into the darkness at the back of the store. I slowly stepped into the gloom and listened for any sound.
I knew that, inside the door, the gift shop was right in front of me. At the rear of the shop was a small hallway that led to the bathrooms. To my immediate right was an archway that led to the snack shop. All of the shades were drawn, so I could see no further than the light thrown from the open door. I peered at the nearby walls for a light switch, but did not see anything. I was about to reach for one of the shades when Laura slid in beside me.
As I glanced towards her, I heard a wet, phlegmatic sound near the bathrooms. It was like someone had sucked in his or her breath in shock, or excitement; someone with a mouth full of mucus. Laura and I both heard it and snapped our heads in the sound’s direction. Just then, whatever it was made a low, throaty growl.
It wasn’t a human sound. It wasn’t an animal sound, either. I suddenly realized that entering the shop might not have been the best idea.
I had just taken a step backward towards Laura to herd her outside when there came a furtive shuffling sound towards us.
“Laura,” I started, “get out of…”
I never finished my sentence.
Before I could react, a creature the likes of which I had never seen before came scurrying out of the darkness. The creature was like some twisted nightmare. Its red, glistening body was like something from a Bosch triptych and it looked as though it’s entire head was made of pointy, sharp teeth. It made a primal, horrifying sound and I had only a second to realize that it was wearing the remnants of a ranger uniform and it was looking at me with unadulterated human-like hate.
It sprung at me and I fell back into Laura, knocking her onto the porch. I kept my footing, barely, and pulled my ice axe back. The creature rushed at me with a jerky, almost insect like scurrying. I could smell decay on its body, and the fetid effluvia coming from its open mouth. Acting with terrified instinct, I brought the ice axe down just as it reached me. The axe sunk squarely into the top of its head with a meaty thwack. The creature’s forward motioned carried it the rest of the way into me and I staggered under its weight. It was like I had been struck by a bus at a crosswalk.
Both it and I fell backwards, over Laura, and into the snow outside.
I had a little freak out then.
I pushed its bulk off of me and rolled away, screaming in horror. I was brought up short by the loop of my axe ice where it was wrapped around my wrist. I jerked to a stop and then began pulling and pushing at the cord in a mad, panicked attempt to get free from the axe and the Lovecraftian demon lying beside me.
I don’t know how long I struggled there, screaming and gibbering. It was Laura, though, who brought me back. After a few moments of madness, I felt her hands on my shoulders, and heard her voice.
“It’s dead, Sully. It’s okay. Sully! SULLY!” she screamed, striking me with an open hand.
I looked up at her in shock and horror.
“It’s dead, Sully,” she murmured, her hand coming up and stroking my face gently where she had just smacked it.
I let out a snort of air and grabbed the front of her parka with my free hand, “Are you all right, Laura?”
“I’ve been better,” she said.
I looked back at the monster lying next to me and shuddered. I slowly rolled over and lifted myself up to a knee. After another deep breath, I grabbed the handle of my ice axe and gave it a push. The creature, which had been lying face down, rolled over.
It was no less grotesque in the day light.
“What in hell is it?” Laura breathed.
To give you some back story…We join our protaganists, Sullly and Laura as they come upon a horrible scene while backpacking on Pike’s Peak, Colorado. Sully is an outdoor clothing company representative that gets talked into guiding Laura on a few days hiking trip. Laura is a Olympic Gold Medalist and extreme sport clebrity who is being wooed by Sully’s company. Unknown to either of them, a weaponized virus has been accidentally released by a research scientist. In their time on the mountain, the virus has spread and the world some14,000 feet below them has started to fall apart. The virus turns its victims into insane, skinless, perversions of nature. It twists the bones and makes the infected walking nightmares. This is their first sign that things aren’t the way they were before they left…
“It’s kind of creepy, Sully,” Laura observed.
“I was thinking the same thing, Laura,” I said. As we began slowly walking towards the small gift shop, I explained my misgivings.
“You’re not reassuring me, honey,” she said, trying to keep things light.
I tried to shrug my unease off, “I’m just being stupid, it’s probably just…”
My voice trailed off as we came around the corner of the building and I saw an empty green Jeep Cherokee, the logo of the National Park Service on its side. It was parked at an angle in front of the shop. The trail had come up behind the gift shop and the building had obscured the Jeep.
Upon seeing it though, I felt a shiver run down my spine and gooseflesh break out all over my body.
The driver door was open and both the Jeep’s interior, and the snow around the Jeep, was churned up and stained red with what looked like blood.
A lot of blood.
“All right, now my spider sense is tingling, Sully,” Laura said, after we stood dumbstruck looking at the carnage before us.
“Mine too, Laura,” I said.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she said.
“That’s no moon,” I replied, without thinking.
“What?”
“Never mind,” I said, realizing it was shock speaking,
I shucked off the straps of my pack and knelt, setting it on the ground in front of me. I unlashed my ice axe from the webbing on the pack and stood, leaving my pack on the ground. Laura saw me do this and followed suit.
“Stay here, Laura,” I said, “I’m going to get a closer look.”
“Like hell you are,” she said, “First rule of horror movies; never separate. That’s how the bad things happen.”
I looked at her and saw immediately that no amount of arguing was going to dissuade her. I sighed and nodded.
I began walking the rest of the way towards the Glen Cove Inn. I suddenly noticed how loud our boots were as they crunched in the snow. The sound seemed to be almost overwhelming in the thin atmosphere. As I neared within ten feet of the Jeep, I motioned for Laura to stay where she was. She complied with no argument or and I snuck closer to the Jeep.
The first thing I noticed was an unmistakable coppery smell that confirmed that the red was definitely blood. The blood was bright red in the clear, cold air and it was sprayed all about the interior of the truck. I looked inside and saw that the carnage had saturated the floor and carpet. Here and there were more solid red bits that could only have been chunks of flesh.
I was so not all right with the way this looked.
“What do you see?” Laura whispered, leaning towards me expectantly.
“It looks like a charnel house,” I said, slowly moving around to the rear or the Jeep. There was nobody inside or behind it.
I returned to Laura’s side and we had a hurried, whispered conference.
“I’m wondering if maybe it was a bear attack,” I said, not really believing it.
“Black bear don’t normally attack people, do they?” Laura said, as though she had read my mind.
“Mama bears do. But, what worries me is that,” I pointed to the front of the jeep at the ground between it and the gift shop. There was a single track of bloody footprints leading up the shoveled path to the porch and into the Inn.
“Why’s it worry you?” Laura asked. I could tell by her expression that she really didn’t want to know, but had to.
“No bear in the Jeep, so it wasn’t a road kill or a shot bear. No bear tracks, so it didn’t attack whoever was in the Jeep here. And there are no drag marks, which there would be if the bear attacked here. There’s just too damned much blood for the attack to not have happened here.”
“Shit,” Laura said.
“I need to go inside and see if someone’s been hurt. Do you want to stay here?” I asked her.
“No way. We’re a team. If you go, I go.” Laura said tightening her grip on her ice axe.
I looked back at the Glen Cove Inn and saw that it was dark. The carnage in and about the Jeep was disturbing enough, but I still couldn’t get past the idea that this place should have been crawling with tourists dressed too lightly for the cold and gasping for breath in the thinner air like fish in an empty bucket.
I twisted my neck, cracking the vertebra there, sighed, and made my way towards the darkened gift shop.
I tried looking through the windows in the door, but the interior was too dark for me to see anything. Laura tried the other one and shook her head, indicating she had no better luck. I nodded and hefted my ice axe. With my other hand, I slowly turned the doorknob until I felt it unlatch. I then gave the door a nudge with the toe of my boot, grabbing the handle of my heavy aluminum ice axe. The axe felt good in my hand. It had just the right weight to it and it was topped with a twelve-inch blade that tapered to an adequately sharp point. I had slipped my wrist into the loop at the end of the handle to prevent my dropping it if shit went downhill fast.
The door creaked open slowly and I was immediately struck by a smell that I remembered from my youth. I had grown up in Ohio, and like many Ohioans, had deer hunted every winter. I no longer hunted, but I remember my first deer kill like it was yesterday. The worst part about killing a deer is gutting it afterwards. I still shudder to think of how hot the inside of a freshly killed deer is when you plunge your hands into it. Worse than that, though, is the smell that rises from the open carcass. It’s a hot, earthy, pungent smell that is redolent with the penny-like smell of blood, and bile, and piss, and fecal matter.
That’s the smell that emitted from the now ajar door. This smell though, had a different quality to it. I couldn’t explain what it was, but my stomach rolled greasily as I realized that what I smelled was what a gutted human would smell like.
Before I lost my nerve, I kicked the door the rest of the way open.
I saw that the bloody footprints continued across the plank floor and into the darkness at the back of the store. I slowly stepped into the gloom and listened for any sound.
I knew that, inside the door, the gift shop was right in front of me. At the rear of the shop was a small hallway that led to the bathrooms. To my immediate right was an archway that led to the snack shop. All of the shades were drawn, so I could see no further than the light thrown from the open door. I peered at the nearby walls for a light switch, but did not see anything. I was about to reach for one of the shades when Laura slid in beside me.
As I glanced towards her, I heard a wet, phlegmatic sound near the bathrooms. It was like someone had sucked in his or her breath in shock, or excitement; someone with a mouth full of mucus. Laura and I both heard it and snapped our heads in the sound’s direction. Just then, whatever it was made a low, throaty growl.
It wasn’t a human sound. It wasn’t an animal sound, either. I suddenly realized that entering the shop might not have been the best idea.
I had just taken a step backward towards Laura to herd her outside when there came a furtive shuffling sound towards us.
“Laura,” I started, “get out of…”
I never finished my sentence.
Before I could react, a creature the likes of which I had never seen before came scurrying out of the darkness. The creature was like some twisted nightmare. Its red, glistening body was like something from a Bosch triptych and it looked as though it’s entire head was made of pointy, sharp teeth. It made a primal, horrifying sound and I had only a second to realize that it was wearing the remnants of a ranger uniform and it was looking at me with unadulterated human-like hate.
It sprung at me and I fell back into Laura, knocking her onto the porch. I kept my footing, barely, and pulled my ice axe back. The creature rushed at me with a jerky, almost insect like scurrying. I could smell decay on its body, and the fetid effluvia coming from its open mouth. Acting with terrified instinct, I brought the ice axe down just as it reached me. The axe sunk squarely into the top of its head with a meaty thwack. The creature’s forward motioned carried it the rest of the way into me and I staggered under its weight. It was like I had been struck by a bus at a crosswalk.
Both it and I fell backwards, over Laura, and into the snow outside.
I had a little freak out then.
I pushed its bulk off of me and rolled away, screaming in horror. I was brought up short by the loop of my axe ice where it was wrapped around my wrist. I jerked to a stop and then began pulling and pushing at the cord in a mad, panicked attempt to get free from the axe and the Lovecraftian demon lying beside me.
I don’t know how long I struggled there, screaming and gibbering. It was Laura, though, who brought me back. After a few moments of madness, I felt her hands on my shoulders, and heard her voice.
“It’s dead, Sully. It’s okay. Sully! SULLY!” she screamed, striking me with an open hand.
I looked up at her in shock and horror.
“It’s dead, Sully,” she murmured, her hand coming up and stroking my face gently where she had just smacked it.
I let out a snort of air and grabbed the front of her parka with my free hand, “Are you all right, Laura?”
“I’ve been better,” she said.
I looked back at the monster lying next to me and shuddered. I slowly rolled over and lifted myself up to a knee. After another deep breath, I grabbed the handle of my ice axe and gave it a push. The creature, which had been lying face down, rolled over.
It was no less grotesque in the day light.
“What in hell is it?” Laura breathed.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Speechless Arousal
I saw this and had to make a quick post. Must DVR this! All I have to say is, “Oh crap! I just had an orgasm! Oooooo…” This, by the way, is the other women. The one woman I would leave Mrs. Zombie for in a minute. And I’ve told her as much; and she’s responded by patting me on my bald head and saying, “Of course, honey. Whatever.”. God, Scully’s even more beautiful than before – if that’s possible. And with an English accent. I’m lost. I’m done in. Oh god…
Monday, January 16, 2006
Hurray!
So I’ve rewritten this post like 4 times because blogger.com has had some technical issues. In the 4th retelling, it’s lost some of its initial punch and spontaneity. Sorry about that….
I just got an email from my friend, Christine. She's finally gotten around to reading the blog. That makes the grand total of my readership somewhere in the ballpark of...2. Hey, I'm vain enough to be happy with that. I'll take what I can get! Of course, she had to make the comment that this blog would make a damning piece of evidence against me at my inevitable trial for mass murder; and I have to say I probably agree. But that's what you get with the good Doctor - - complete, unedited, gruesome honesty. You don't like it? Too f'in bad! I found some really cool links, most of them over at at MSNBC.com, but I just thought they were worth looking at...
The first is this one. How in the HELL do they find this guy sane!?! Of course, they are going to be making a German language movie based on this guy's story. I really hope they subtitle it and make it available here in the US. I'm sure that someone will get a bootleg, subtitled version on one of the horror websites I frequent, so I'll keep you posted if I get my cold, dead hands on a copy. Real life Hannibal Lectors rule!
You've gotta admit, this guy should get points for being honest! I don't know what's funnier, the guys background and story, the funny pictures of him with a cloak and sword, or the fact that he thinks that Christian America would let him anywhere near the Minnesota governor's mansion, much less the White House. He's so proud of his Alterna-Religion wackiness! Please. Here's some free advice from a real evil genius. Don't be honest about what or who you are. If you want to become a politician, hide what you are, toe the corporate/political line, go undercover. Never let anyone know your true agenda. Then, once you infiltrate the halls of power, once you've fooled them all into thinking you are exactly what every other politician is, you spring the trap! You reveal your true evilness and bathe in the glory when the helpless masses who put you there are unable to do a damn thing about it! Kill the men and revel in the lamentation of their women! This is the way to true power; not by posting a site letting them all in on your evil machinations. Sheesh! It's called lying numbnuts, try it some time…hell – it works for real politicians every day.
Star Trek Alert! Red Alert! Raise shields and arm photon torpedoes! So I saw this at ign.com and I have to admit it gave me an initial tingly twinge in my geeky parts. But then I sobered and shook it off. Damn you Paramount Pictures, and damn you Majel Roddenberry! Did you think I was so easily seduced?!? Did you think I forgot the horror that was Star Trek: Nemesis? Did you think the scars didn’t run that deep? I’ll not be sucked in this time, I swear I won’t! (Of course, I will probably shill out the few drachmas to see this. What the hell - - I’m an unrepentant sci-fi geek. But, for gods’ sake, let the Next Generation cast go! Especially Patrick Stewart. Granted, I believe he is a god among men. Who else could so convincingly embody such great characters as Jean Luc Picard, Gurney Halleck, Charles Xavier, and a damn fine Ebeneezer Scrooge? But, given all of that, let the character retire to the pleasure planet of Risa already. The producers should go for Star Trek: DS9 (which ended so poorly), or Star Trek: Enterprise. There’s tons of unmined potential in either of those. And, in the name of all that is holy…please don’t even think about resurrecting Star Trek: Voyager. Please. Shudder.)
I saw this and was mildly pleased with the explanation of an ages old question. It’s a great melding of philosphy, logic, theology, mathematics, and quantum mechanics. It’s a little deep, but sometimes I dig the deep stuff…
Before I wrap up, I wanted to make a few points to my one or two sole readers… thanks for the support, stop back often, tell others about me. And check out my Frapr map in the links to the left. Make sure you join the Undead Minions - -if only so I don’t look like such a lonely dork!
I will probably post an excerpt from my new novel in the next day or two. If you stumble across the site, and have any feeback, let me know. It’d be greatly appreciated.
Good night dear reader. Unpleasant dreams.
I just got an email from my friend, Christine. She's finally gotten around to reading the blog. That makes the grand total of my readership somewhere in the ballpark of...2. Hey, I'm vain enough to be happy with that. I'll take what I can get! Of course, she had to make the comment that this blog would make a damning piece of evidence against me at my inevitable trial for mass murder; and I have to say I probably agree. But that's what you get with the good Doctor - - complete, unedited, gruesome honesty. You don't like it? Too f'in bad! I found some really cool links, most of them over at at MSNBC.com, but I just thought they were worth looking at...
The first is this one. How in the HELL do they find this guy sane!?! Of course, they are going to be making a German language movie based on this guy's story. I really hope they subtitle it and make it available here in the US. I'm sure that someone will get a bootleg, subtitled version on one of the horror websites I frequent, so I'll keep you posted if I get my cold, dead hands on a copy. Real life Hannibal Lectors rule!
You've gotta admit, this guy should get points for being honest! I don't know what's funnier, the guys background and story, the funny pictures of him with a cloak and sword, or the fact that he thinks that Christian America would let him anywhere near the Minnesota governor's mansion, much less the White House. He's so proud of his Alterna-Religion wackiness! Please. Here's some free advice from a real evil genius. Don't be honest about what or who you are. If you want to become a politician, hide what you are, toe the corporate/political line, go undercover. Never let anyone know your true agenda. Then, once you infiltrate the halls of power, once you've fooled them all into thinking you are exactly what every other politician is, you spring the trap! You reveal your true evilness and bathe in the glory when the helpless masses who put you there are unable to do a damn thing about it! Kill the men and revel in the lamentation of their women! This is the way to true power; not by posting a site letting them all in on your evil machinations. Sheesh! It's called lying numbnuts, try it some time…hell – it works for real politicians every day.
Star Trek Alert! Red Alert! Raise shields and arm photon torpedoes! So I saw this at ign.com and I have to admit it gave me an initial tingly twinge in my geeky parts. But then I sobered and shook it off. Damn you Paramount Pictures, and damn you Majel Roddenberry! Did you think I was so easily seduced?!? Did you think I forgot the horror that was Star Trek: Nemesis? Did you think the scars didn’t run that deep? I’ll not be sucked in this time, I swear I won’t! (Of course, I will probably shill out the few drachmas to see this. What the hell - - I’m an unrepentant sci-fi geek. But, for gods’ sake, let the Next Generation cast go! Especially Patrick Stewart. Granted, I believe he is a god among men. Who else could so convincingly embody such great characters as Jean Luc Picard, Gurney Halleck, Charles Xavier, and a damn fine Ebeneezer Scrooge? But, given all of that, let the character retire to the pleasure planet of Risa already. The producers should go for Star Trek: DS9 (which ended so poorly), or Star Trek: Enterprise. There’s tons of unmined potential in either of those. And, in the name of all that is holy…please don’t even think about resurrecting Star Trek: Voyager. Please. Shudder.)
I saw this and was mildly pleased with the explanation of an ages old question. It’s a great melding of philosphy, logic, theology, mathematics, and quantum mechanics. It’s a little deep, but sometimes I dig the deep stuff…
Before I wrap up, I wanted to make a few points to my one or two sole readers… thanks for the support, stop back often, tell others about me. And check out my Frapr map in the links to the left. Make sure you join the Undead Minions - -if only so I don’t look like such a lonely dork!
I will probably post an excerpt from my new novel in the next day or two. If you stumble across the site, and have any feeback, let me know. It’d be greatly appreciated.
Good night dear reader. Unpleasant dreams.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Bizarre, Odd, and Strangely Compelling
How do I get one of these! I shiver with morbid delight when I think of how friggin' cool this is. I bet you could find one on EBay. This is just the sort of thing EBay was designed for. I know what I'm doing this weekend, let the search begin!
Another thing I thought would be great to try and find would be a Victorian Era vampire killing kit. I saw one once at the Ripley's Believe it or Not Museum in Niagara Falls and knew I needed to have one. A quick internet search turned up the following information on this odd piece of antiquity (the poster had found one for auction on Gunbroker.com)...
Rare Mid to Late 19th Century Vampire Killing Kit!
This box contains the items considered necessary for the protection of persons who travel into certain little known countries in Easter Europe where the populace are plagued with a peculiar manifestation of evil, known as Vampires... Professor Ernst Blomberg respectfully requests that the purchaser of this kit carefully studies his book. Should evil manifestations become apparent, he is then equiped to deal with them efficiently... Professor Blomberg wishes to announce his grateful thanks to that well known gunmaker of Liege, Nicholas Plombeur, whose help in compiling of the special items, the silver bullets,etc., has been most efficient. The items enclosed are as follows...
1. An efficient pistol with its usual accoutrements
Another thing I thought would be great to try and find would be a Victorian Era vampire killing kit. I saw one once at the Ripley's Believe it or Not Museum in Niagara Falls and knew I needed to have one. A quick internet search turned up the following information on this odd piece of antiquity (the poster had found one for auction on Gunbroker.com)...
Rare Mid to Late 19th Century Vampire Killing Kit!
The original 19th century text from the enclosing wooden box reads:
Vampire Killing Kit
The accoutrements for the destruction of the Vampire
The accoutrements for the destruction of the Vampire
This box contains the items considered necessary for the protection of persons who travel into certain little known countries in Easter Europe where the populace are plagued with a peculiar manifestation of evil, known as Vampires... Professor Ernst Blomberg respectfully requests that the purchaser of this kit carefully studies his book. Should evil manifestations become apparent, he is then equiped to deal with them efficiently... Professor Blomberg wishes to announce his grateful thanks to that well known gunmaker of Liege, Nicholas Plombeur, whose help in compiling of the special items, the silver bullets,etc., has been most efficient. The items enclosed are as follows...
1. An efficient pistol with its usual accoutrements
2. A quantity of bullets of the finest silver
3. Powdered flowers of garlic (one phial)
4. Flour of Brimstone (one phial)
5. Wooden stake (Oak)
6. Ivory crucifix
7. Holy Water (one phial)
8. Professer Blomberg's New Serum
How groovy is this?!? Of course, given that they have to be near impossible to find, one could perhaps make some money making them and selling them on the internet... Hmmmm... has the evil Doctor stumbled upon something here? I am always looking for filthy luchre to finance my various plots to take over the world... mayhap this would be a great way to make some money on Ebay. Let's see; I'd need to lose the gun (don't want to deal with getting an FFL); I'd need to make somewhat pure silver bullets (or paint some CCI Blazers with silver paint; come up with a nicely antique and Victorian looking case,;and figure out what the hell Dr. Bloomberg's New Serum is.
The Doctor must think about this. Ifanybody wants me, I'll be in my lair - The Theater of Terror - plotting my newest scheme.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Money Sucks.
Money Sucks So - I'm not a happy zombie right now. My Jeep had been making a weird grinding noise and whine that was steering related. So, I took it into the shop and now - some $400 later - I have a new steering gear box. This sucks. Mrs. Zombie's mad because we had to dip into Christmas money to pay for it, which we had other plans for. And, when Mrs. Zombie ain't happy, nobody's happy.
To make matters worse, I've been wanting to get an expedition rack for the Jeep for ladders when I do painting side jobs and also to throw gear and/or dead deer on top of when I go hunting or camping. (There is a distinct dearth of room in the back of the Jeep Wrangler TJ. I've seen coffins with more storage space.) And, as I plan on having the TJ for the next 10-15 years, I'm stuck with the small space. That's where an overhead expedition rack comes into play. The only problem with that idea is that they're expense. Really expensive. Prohibitively-fucking-expensive. I did the math on ordering one and it came to something like $625, before shipping. When you're living in a small suburban, three bedroom crypt with two little zombies, a hot Mrs. Zombie, and two stupid undead dogs, there's little room for such extravagence. Sooo, I've been watching the various Jeep boards I frequent and, doesn't it figure, I found a guy who has the exact rack I want for $200. And I just spent $400 on the Jeep so I would have power steering.
And did I mention the black rage Mrs. Zombie's in about this.? Sigh.
So, I call the little Missus. I start the call telling her how much I love her, and how she is like a bright light in the darkness that is my dark and brooding soul. She smelled a rat immediately. When I explained why I needed to spend an additional $200, she threatened me with various demonic means of torture. I tried explaining the importance of the rack, and how it wasn't necessarily a frivolous purchase. She would have none of it. I dare say it was a hard sell. She eventually said, "Fine. Do whatever you feel you need to do." In that tone - that curt, snappy tone that I'm certain mothers teach all of their daughters in preparation for eventual marriage and husbands. I hate that tone. What's worse is that, being a guy, I find myself immediately defaulting to the "Well, she said I could do it. Yeah, she was mad, but she said I could." So now I'm half thinking about pulling the trigger on the deal. It's always better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, right?
Oh - to further complicate the matter - it's not a local deal. The guy lives outside of Chicago. That means that, once I get her less mad at me about the purchase, I've got to break the news that I need to drive 7+ hours(one way!) to go get it. And it'll probably be on a weekend. Calculate gas, and a 12 pack of beer for the seller to help me install the rack for the trip back, and it's suddenly more than just $200 bucks. And she'll be mad because it will b the better part of a weekend. But it's still a deal, right?
I'm so screwed....
Other Thoughts I listened to part of the opening remarks for the Alito SCOTUS nomination today on NPR. I've got to say, the Republicans really piss me off. I understand we Liberals have our shortcomings. Nobody's perfect. We, however, don't have the bald faced affrontery to lie, and lie so blatantly. The Conservatives throw the word 'Liberal' around like it is a dirty word. They've reached such a level of hubris that they've pitched civil, diplomatic, political language out the window. They rail against the Liberals, who they say are as bad as the terrorists. They say the Liberals hate God, hate America, and hate freedom. Liberals hate everything that is good or decent. And they don't even bother to hide behind rhetoric. They said all of those things, in as plain a language as I used, today. On the Congressional record. It borders on hate speech... but wait a minute, I guess that's never bothered them before, so why should it bother them now?
You know what the problem is? King George II. He's so invigorated the right with his talk of mandates and protecting the American Way that he's conviced them all that they are bulletproof. And this belief that you must support the war AND the President, or else you're a treasonous son of a bitch, is bullshit. Well, guess what? I ain't drinking that Kool-Aid. The country needs to wake up - GWB is not a God. He is not above the law. Under him we've had our civil liberties eroded and trampled upon to the point of absurdity. He's said, with the same unapologetic candor, that he will do whatever he wants or feels is necessary to protect America. Even spying on AMERICAN CITIZENS. Joe McCarthy did that in the fifties. The FBI did it under Hoover. The CIA and NSA and Homeland Security do it now. It was wrong then, it's wrong now. Wake up, Liberals, one day you'll wake up and you'll find yourself in the Kingdom of America; presided over by King George II - Supreme Ruler and Emperor. He's like Darth Sidious - only with better complexion and atrociously worse diction. And you know what the funny part is, the Liberals will be screwed because the Conservatives have all the friggin' guns.
In this same vein - Take some time to do a Google search on the Federal No Fly List. Talk about Government gone mad! Most disturbing, especially considering the NSA wiretaps, is the argument that Left Wing political activists - with absolutely NO terrorist connections - are finding themselves on the list. So let me make sure I've got this right... if you disagree with the Bush Administration politically, as is your right as an American citizen, you're a terrorist. Since that's the case, you may no longer freely travel, within the United States, without being subject to harassment or an outright refusal to board an airplane. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I did wake up in some totalitarian dictatorship. May the undead gods save us from the machinations of the right wing theocracy that has suddenly been given a blank check to infringe upon our civil liberties. It's never been more important that you go here. Do it today. Give what you can!
One final link (and off of my soapbox!) I found this link over on MSNBC. It is one of the most clearly written, understandable explanations of science and physics I've ever read. This is what we need to be spending our money on! I may be a Star Wars/Star Trek geek, but damn it if this isn't what we should be working towards as a society. FTL drives on ships for space exploration - - it makes me firm up just thinking about it.
Until later, dear friend.
To make matters worse, I've been wanting to get an expedition rack for the Jeep for ladders when I do painting side jobs and also to throw gear and/or dead deer on top of when I go hunting or camping. (There is a distinct dearth of room in the back of the Jeep Wrangler TJ. I've seen coffins with more storage space.) And, as I plan on having the TJ for the next 10-15 years, I'm stuck with the small space. That's where an overhead expedition rack comes into play. The only problem with that idea is that they're expense. Really expensive. Prohibitively-fucking-expensive. I did the math on ordering one and it came to something like $625, before shipping. When you're living in a small suburban, three bedroom crypt with two little zombies, a hot Mrs. Zombie, and two stupid undead dogs, there's little room for such extravagence. Sooo, I've been watching the various Jeep boards I frequent and, doesn't it figure, I found a guy who has the exact rack I want for $200. And I just spent $400 on the Jeep so I would have power steering.
And did I mention the black rage Mrs. Zombie's in about this.? Sigh.
So, I call the little Missus. I start the call telling her how much I love her, and how she is like a bright light in the darkness that is my dark and brooding soul. She smelled a rat immediately. When I explained why I needed to spend an additional $200, she threatened me with various demonic means of torture. I tried explaining the importance of the rack, and how it wasn't necessarily a frivolous purchase. She would have none of it. I dare say it was a hard sell. She eventually said, "Fine. Do whatever you feel you need to do." In that tone - that curt, snappy tone that I'm certain mothers teach all of their daughters in preparation for eventual marriage and husbands. I hate that tone. What's worse is that, being a guy, I find myself immediately defaulting to the "Well, she said I could do it. Yeah, she was mad, but she said I could." So now I'm half thinking about pulling the trigger on the deal. It's always better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, right?
Oh - to further complicate the matter - it's not a local deal. The guy lives outside of Chicago. That means that, once I get her less mad at me about the purchase, I've got to break the news that I need to drive 7+ hours(one way!) to go get it. And it'll probably be on a weekend. Calculate gas, and a 12 pack of beer for the seller to help me install the rack for the trip back, and it's suddenly more than just $200 bucks. And she'll be mad because it will b the better part of a weekend. But it's still a deal, right?
I'm so screwed....
Other Thoughts I listened to part of the opening remarks for the Alito SCOTUS nomination today on NPR. I've got to say, the Republicans really piss me off. I understand we Liberals have our shortcomings. Nobody's perfect. We, however, don't have the bald faced affrontery to lie, and lie so blatantly. The Conservatives throw the word 'Liberal' around like it is a dirty word. They've reached such a level of hubris that they've pitched civil, diplomatic, political language out the window. They rail against the Liberals, who they say are as bad as the terrorists. They say the Liberals hate God, hate America, and hate freedom. Liberals hate everything that is good or decent. And they don't even bother to hide behind rhetoric. They said all of those things, in as plain a language as I used, today. On the Congressional record. It borders on hate speech... but wait a minute, I guess that's never bothered them before, so why should it bother them now?
You know what the problem is? King George II. He's so invigorated the right with his talk of mandates and protecting the American Way that he's conviced them all that they are bulletproof. And this belief that you must support the war AND the President, or else you're a treasonous son of a bitch, is bullshit. Well, guess what? I ain't drinking that Kool-Aid. The country needs to wake up - GWB is not a God. He is not above the law. Under him we've had our civil liberties eroded and trampled upon to the point of absurdity. He's said, with the same unapologetic candor, that he will do whatever he wants or feels is necessary to protect America. Even spying on AMERICAN CITIZENS. Joe McCarthy did that in the fifties. The FBI did it under Hoover. The CIA and NSA and Homeland Security do it now. It was wrong then, it's wrong now. Wake up, Liberals, one day you'll wake up and you'll find yourself in the Kingdom of America; presided over by King George II - Supreme Ruler and Emperor. He's like Darth Sidious - only with better complexion and atrociously worse diction. And you know what the funny part is, the Liberals will be screwed because the Conservatives have all the friggin' guns.
In this same vein - Take some time to do a Google search on the Federal No Fly List. Talk about Government gone mad! Most disturbing, especially considering the NSA wiretaps, is the argument that Left Wing political activists - with absolutely NO terrorist connections - are finding themselves on the list. So let me make sure I've got this right... if you disagree with the Bush Administration politically, as is your right as an American citizen, you're a terrorist. Since that's the case, you may no longer freely travel, within the United States, without being subject to harassment or an outright refusal to board an airplane. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I did wake up in some totalitarian dictatorship. May the undead gods save us from the machinations of the right wing theocracy that has suddenly been given a blank check to infringe upon our civil liberties. It's never been more important that you go here. Do it today. Give what you can!
One final link (and off of my soapbox!) I found this link over on MSNBC. It is one of the most clearly written, understandable explanations of science and physics I've ever read. This is what we need to be spending our money on! I may be a Star Wars/Star Trek geek, but damn it if this isn't what we should be working towards as a society. FTL drives on ships for space exploration - - it makes me firm up just thinking about it.
Until later, dear friend.
Friday, January 06, 2006
What D&D Character Am I?
Found this while web crawling. I don't normally do these "what ____ are you", but I really liked this one. It appeals to that Dungeons and Dragons geek that I will always be deep dow!
WHAT D&D CHARACTER AM I?
I Am A: Chaotic Good Half-Elf Ranger Druid
Alignment:
Chaotic Good characters are independent types with a strong belief in the value of goodness. They have little use for governments and other forces of order, and will generally do their own things, without heed to such groups.
Race:
Half-Elves are a cross between a human and an elf. They are smaller, like their elven ancestors, but have a much shorter lifespan. They are sometimes looked down upon as half-breeds, but this is rare. They have both the curious drive of humans and the patience of elves.
Primary Class:
Rangers are the defenders of nature and the elements. They are in tune with the Earth, and work to keep it safe and healthy.
Secondary Class:
Druids are a special variety of Cleric who serves the Earth, and can call upon the power in the earth to accomplish their goals. They tend to be somewhat fanatical about defending natural settings.
Deity:
Solonor Thelandria is the Chaotic Good elven god of archery and the hunt. He is also known as the Keen Eye, the Great Archer, and the Forest Hunter. His followers respect nature, and only hunt when needed, but are quick to defend the forest from intruders. Their favorite weapon is the bow, and they tend to be extremely talented with it. Solonor Thelandria's symbol is an arrow with green fletchings.
Find out What D&D Character Are You?, courtesy of
NeppyMan (e-mail)
WHAT D&D CHARACTER AM I?
I Am A: Chaotic Good Half-Elf Ranger Druid
Alignment:
Chaotic Good characters are independent types with a strong belief in the value of goodness. They have little use for governments and other forces of order, and will generally do their own things, without heed to such groups.
Race:
Half-Elves are a cross between a human and an elf. They are smaller, like their elven ancestors, but have a much shorter lifespan. They are sometimes looked down upon as half-breeds, but this is rare. They have both the curious drive of humans and the patience of elves.
Primary Class:
Rangers are the defenders of nature and the elements. They are in tune with the Earth, and work to keep it safe and healthy.
Secondary Class:
Druids are a special variety of Cleric who serves the Earth, and can call upon the power in the earth to accomplish their goals. They tend to be somewhat fanatical about defending natural settings.
Deity:
Solonor Thelandria is the Chaotic Good elven god of archery and the hunt. He is also known as the Keen Eye, the Great Archer, and the Forest Hunter. His followers respect nature, and only hunt when needed, but are quick to defend the forest from intruders. Their favorite weapon is the bow, and they tend to be extremely talented with it. Solonor Thelandria's symbol is an arrow with green fletchings.
Find out What D&D Character Are You?, courtesy of
NeppyMan (e-mail)
Monday, January 02, 2006
After Contracting Some Ebola-like Monkey Virus...
So, I’ve been REALLY lax in updating lately. It’s, obviously, been crazy with the holidays. Add on top of that the fact that I got bronchitis, an ear infection, and a sinus infection; and you’ll understand my lethargy.
On the loot end of things, I scored a hefty amount of it for Xmas. It was a good year. I managed to get most of what I wanted, and a few extra things that I didn’t and were a pleasant surprise. Alas, no Harley. But that’s all right. I’m just biding my time on that little purchase. Maybe this summer… The one thing I didn’t get that I really wanted, and I even got a brochure of it for Mrs. Zombie, was a Utilikilt. Gods, how I want one of these. I’ll probably just end up buying it for myself, and hopefully before St. Patty’s day. Oh, one of the best gifts I got was from my brother, Richie. He bought me the Collector’s gift pack of the Universal Studios Legacy DVD’s. It’s Dracula 1931, Frankenstein 1931, and The Wolf Man 1941. It also included some nifty little statuettes that look great on my shelf. Each DVD also has all of the subsequent Universal sequels to each classic film. Things like the Bride of Frankenstien, The Return of Dracula, Frankenstein meets the Wolfman, etc. I’m giddy with joy at this. And the best part is that I can now introduce Zombie Boy and Zombie Girl to the movies that I grew up on. At 7 years old and 5 years old, respectively, it’s definitely time to start their horror movie education.
So I started a new novel. Finally. I’ve been so out of it lately, and I needed to get back into writing seriously. I think this blog has helped that. Add to that the fact that I’m returning to school this spring and I’m finally feeling like I can get back into doing what it is that I love the most. The story has taken on a life of it’s own and I’m finding that it wants to write itself. This is a good thing. My first novel was like that – the voices in my head screamed and screamed and I just wrote what they said. It’s almost like not working, and that’s how the whole writing process should be. I’m so excited about this. In terms of the story, it’s an expansion of a horror/sci-fi story I wrote a few years back. The end kind of went nowhere, so I left it on the back burner. However, I’ve lately been so absorbed with the idea of survival fiction. Whether it’s the Zombie Apocalypse, Alien Invasion, or even Stephen King’s The Stand; I’ve been fixated on the whole idea of the downfall of society and the eventual hunting of people by the evil that’s left. I’ve immersed myself in Deadlogs (LiveJournals, Blogs, etc.) of the zombie apocalypse, The Living Dead movies, and other mediums that describe TEOTWAWKI. I even wrote a short story that was published over at Home Page of the Dead, hoping that would exorcise the demons. Obviously, it didn’t work. But that’s great because I’ve started a new novel based on my current fascination. Watch for updates.
Other Updates: My New Years Resolution (besides continuing to lose weight – NOBODY likes a fat Dr. Zombie!) is to get moving on my multimedia company. I will begin working on the online zine within the next month or so, and then quickly follow up with the first print version. I’m looking at a release date of October 31 (of course!). Finally, I’ll be doing everything I can to get the equipment and funding necessary to begin filming an independent film I wrote this summer. Watch within the next month for me to begin a separate blog detailing the pains I’ll be going through to get that done. Also watch for the Paypal link attached to that site if my few (if any!) readers would like to throw a few galactic credits my way towards the cause. Who knows, maybe I’ll cast you or give you a credit somewhere. I can promise no money or recompense, other than glory, infamy, and notoriety. That’s cool, right?
In that same vein, I’ll probably use Google Ad Sense on the other blog. I’m loathe to do it on this Blog because that’s really sort of whorish to my mind. Besides, with all the railing I do against religion here, the Ad Sense filters would just pick up on the word ‘Christian’ and my ads would all be for bibles, crosses, and Amy Grant Cd’s. Besides making me a whore, that’d be kind of against the whole purpose of what I do here, huh?
One final thing before I shamble into the darkness. I saw the BEST movie last night! I’d read about it on a blog I frequent written by a cat that calls himself Mad Ogre. Funny thing, that. Ogre is a conservative, Republican, Mormon who posts from out of the Uintah Basin in Utah. He is the exact opposite of everything the Evil Doctor is. The thing is he’s still a guy I’d like to sit down and have a few frothy pints of Irish Stout with. He writes about movies, guns, politics, and all kinds of other things. I found him when I was doing a search on a Taurus PT-111 Millennium 9mm a few years back and he’s become a daily check for me. Besides his rabid anti-Liberal ravings, I respect the guy and I suspect we might have been friends had we ever met. Wishful thinking? Maybe. Either way, I like the guy. Anyway, I digress. For years, he’s raved about this movie called Equilibrium. It stars Christian Bale, Sean Bean, and Taye Diggs. I actually tracked down a copy last night and all I can say is, “Holy, Fuck!!” This is one of the coolest damn sci-fi flicks I have ever, ever seen! Christian Bale plays this sort of cop/priest called a Grammaton Cleric. His job is to destroy things that make people feel (art, music, and aesthetics) and kill those who seek out feelings and emotions. The idea works and is brought beautifully to life by the director and actors. And the action scenes! Gods! The Grammaton Clerics practice a highly specialized martial art called Gun Katas. It makes the gun an actual hand to hand weapon and makes the clerics almost Jedi like with their ability to use guns. And the choreography supports this. I’d heard comparisons of this movie to the Matrix in terms of coolness. I’m always leery of this sort of comparison, as it smacks of alternative marketing (Our movie is JUST like the Matrix! Rent it! Really, we just went direct to video because we wanted to. We’re like the Matrix! Really! Please? Pretty please?) This movie though, lives up to the hype – believe me!
If you are one of my true Undead Minions, you must go rent or buy this movie. You will not be disappointed.
That’s all for now as I want to get at least two chapters of the novel written tonight. Happy New Year – may it be filled with dread and gore for all those upon whom you prey!
On the loot end of things, I scored a hefty amount of it for Xmas. It was a good year. I managed to get most of what I wanted, and a few extra things that I didn’t and were a pleasant surprise. Alas, no Harley. But that’s all right. I’m just biding my time on that little purchase. Maybe this summer… The one thing I didn’t get that I really wanted, and I even got a brochure of it for Mrs. Zombie, was a Utilikilt. Gods, how I want one of these. I’ll probably just end up buying it for myself, and hopefully before St. Patty’s day. Oh, one of the best gifts I got was from my brother, Richie. He bought me the Collector’s gift pack of the Universal Studios Legacy DVD’s. It’s Dracula 1931, Frankenstein 1931, and The Wolf Man 1941. It also included some nifty little statuettes that look great on my shelf. Each DVD also has all of the subsequent Universal sequels to each classic film. Things like the Bride of Frankenstien, The Return of Dracula, Frankenstein meets the Wolfman, etc. I’m giddy with joy at this. And the best part is that I can now introduce Zombie Boy and Zombie Girl to the movies that I grew up on. At 7 years old and 5 years old, respectively, it’s definitely time to start their horror movie education.
So I started a new novel. Finally. I’ve been so out of it lately, and I needed to get back into writing seriously. I think this blog has helped that. Add to that the fact that I’m returning to school this spring and I’m finally feeling like I can get back into doing what it is that I love the most. The story has taken on a life of it’s own and I’m finding that it wants to write itself. This is a good thing. My first novel was like that – the voices in my head screamed and screamed and I just wrote what they said. It’s almost like not working, and that’s how the whole writing process should be. I’m so excited about this. In terms of the story, it’s an expansion of a horror/sci-fi story I wrote a few years back. The end kind of went nowhere, so I left it on the back burner. However, I’ve lately been so absorbed with the idea of survival fiction. Whether it’s the Zombie Apocalypse, Alien Invasion, or even Stephen King’s The Stand; I’ve been fixated on the whole idea of the downfall of society and the eventual hunting of people by the evil that’s left. I’ve immersed myself in Deadlogs (LiveJournals, Blogs, etc.) of the zombie apocalypse, The Living Dead movies, and other mediums that describe TEOTWAWKI. I even wrote a short story that was published over at Home Page of the Dead, hoping that would exorcise the demons. Obviously, it didn’t work. But that’s great because I’ve started a new novel based on my current fascination. Watch for updates.
Other Updates: My New Years Resolution (besides continuing to lose weight – NOBODY likes a fat Dr. Zombie!) is to get moving on my multimedia company. I will begin working on the online zine within the next month or so, and then quickly follow up with the first print version. I’m looking at a release date of October 31 (of course!). Finally, I’ll be doing everything I can to get the equipment and funding necessary to begin filming an independent film I wrote this summer. Watch within the next month for me to begin a separate blog detailing the pains I’ll be going through to get that done. Also watch for the Paypal link attached to that site if my few (if any!) readers would like to throw a few galactic credits my way towards the cause. Who knows, maybe I’ll cast you or give you a credit somewhere. I can promise no money or recompense, other than glory, infamy, and notoriety. That’s cool, right?
In that same vein, I’ll probably use Google Ad Sense on the other blog. I’m loathe to do it on this Blog because that’s really sort of whorish to my mind. Besides, with all the railing I do against religion here, the Ad Sense filters would just pick up on the word ‘Christian’ and my ads would all be for bibles, crosses, and Amy Grant Cd’s. Besides making me a whore, that’d be kind of against the whole purpose of what I do here, huh?
One final thing before I shamble into the darkness. I saw the BEST movie last night! I’d read about it on a blog I frequent written by a cat that calls himself Mad Ogre. Funny thing, that. Ogre is a conservative, Republican, Mormon who posts from out of the Uintah Basin in Utah. He is the exact opposite of everything the Evil Doctor is. The thing is he’s still a guy I’d like to sit down and have a few frothy pints of Irish Stout with. He writes about movies, guns, politics, and all kinds of other things. I found him when I was doing a search on a Taurus PT-111 Millennium 9mm a few years back and he’s become a daily check for me. Besides his rabid anti-Liberal ravings, I respect the guy and I suspect we might have been friends had we ever met. Wishful thinking? Maybe. Either way, I like the guy. Anyway, I digress. For years, he’s raved about this movie called Equilibrium. It stars Christian Bale, Sean Bean, and Taye Diggs. I actually tracked down a copy last night and all I can say is, “Holy, Fuck!!” This is one of the coolest damn sci-fi flicks I have ever, ever seen! Christian Bale plays this sort of cop/priest called a Grammaton Cleric. His job is to destroy things that make people feel (art, music, and aesthetics) and kill those who seek out feelings and emotions. The idea works and is brought beautifully to life by the director and actors. And the action scenes! Gods! The Grammaton Clerics practice a highly specialized martial art called Gun Katas. It makes the gun an actual hand to hand weapon and makes the clerics almost Jedi like with their ability to use guns. And the choreography supports this. I’d heard comparisons of this movie to the Matrix in terms of coolness. I’m always leery of this sort of comparison, as it smacks of alternative marketing (Our movie is JUST like the Matrix! Rent it! Really, we just went direct to video because we wanted to. We’re like the Matrix! Really! Please? Pretty please?) This movie though, lives up to the hype – believe me!
If you are one of my true Undead Minions, you must go rent or buy this movie. You will not be disappointed.
That’s all for now as I want to get at least two chapters of the novel written tonight. Happy New Year – may it be filled with dread and gore for all those upon whom you prey!
Thursday, December 22, 2005
A Groovy commercial...
I wanted to make a comment about the new Earthlink commercials. You may have seen them. The whole angle of the commercial is that the Earthlink employees “believe”. They believe in no spam, they believe in no pop ups, they believe in no long dial up/download times. To build on this, they show some of their other ‘employees’ wandering about the office. There are fairies, a leprechaun, an ogre, a mermaid, a gnomish little creature, and other assorted mythical creatures. It’s a neat concept. And I like how the commercial makes the somewhat obvious allusion to believing in fairy tale creatures. Add to that the double entendre of a Pagan/mythological “earthlink”. Very smart.
This commercial has a twofold appeal to me.
The first is the pleasant tingle the CGI rendered creatures give that barely repressed Dungeons & Dragons playing/ex-Ren Fair actor geek within me. I’ll admit it. I’m a nerd and this stuff just rocks. In college and high school, Mrs. Zombie was a popular, pretty, jock. So, while she was hanging out with all the cool kids, I was in my buddy Sean’s attic; rolling d20’s, eating pork rinds, and arguing about how my 10th level dwarven barbarian would TOTALLY be able to kill a dragon with a well placed blow of my +15 mithral hammer. And boy, does it drive Mrs. Zombie crazy when I go off on my geek tangents. She just don’t understand, no sirree!
The other coolness factor actually has a religious overtone to it. Believe it or not, as much as I rail against organized religion, I will admit a passing affinity for Pagan/Naturalistic religions. I’m not saying I believe in Paganism, the Great Mother, or any of the other accouterments of earth religions. I’m just saying it makes more sense to me than some old guy with a fickle temperament who made us for the simple purpose of loving and worshipping him; or in his son, who managed to get himself nailed to a big piece o’ wood. Being a hunter and an avid outdoorsmen, I understand the wonder and power of nature. There is no place in which I feel more comfortable, or at peace, than when I am alone in the woods. And, combine that awe with my obvious enjoyment of myths, and you get an almost irresistible attraction. In addition to all of that, I think my Irish-Celtic heritage predisposes me to marvel and find joy in the idea of natural spirits and/or creatures.
The other thing is, I have friends who are Wiccans and Neo-Pagans. They’re all great people. I do need to note that some of them are a little too anti-meat eating for my taste, and some of them are down right flaky. (You know what I’m talking about; the patchouli scented/dragon crystal wearing/astrology/numerology/aura reading nutjobs.) But, one of my best friends and a man I consider my brother, Curtis, is a Wiccan and he manages to hold down a normal job and not creep people out with the crazy talk that some of the alter-religious movements sometimes spout. Which is the way it should be, don't you think? I hold Christians and myself to a very high standard; one should keep their religious beliefs personal. Why shouldn't the New-Agers be held to the same standard? It's the way it should work, and yet, I always seem to get stuck talking to the one person at any party or function who has to fill me in on the joys of their latest religious fantasies or idealogies. Sigh.
In fact, as far as Curtis is concerned, I’ve asked him if he would be interested in doing the Burning Man festival next year. I think it would be great to just hang with the much more free minded and accepting purveyors of alternative religions. It’d be a whole lot better than going to a church revival or Christian concert. (Shudder!)
Besides, worst case scenario, I could always bite a few of the super whacky and infect them with my undead evil. Think how cool it would be to release undead, Neo-Pagan zombies on the unsuspecting, self-proclaimed arbiters of all that is right and good (Ie: Christians!). All of humanity will eventually succumb and become my evil, undead minions; but I might as well have fun before I attain single-handed, world domination, don’t you agree?
This commercial has a twofold appeal to me.
The first is the pleasant tingle the CGI rendered creatures give that barely repressed Dungeons & Dragons playing/ex-Ren Fair actor geek within me. I’ll admit it. I’m a nerd and this stuff just rocks. In college and high school, Mrs. Zombie was a popular, pretty, jock. So, while she was hanging out with all the cool kids, I was in my buddy Sean’s attic; rolling d20’s, eating pork rinds, and arguing about how my 10th level dwarven barbarian would TOTALLY be able to kill a dragon with a well placed blow of my +15 mithral hammer. And boy, does it drive Mrs. Zombie crazy when I go off on my geek tangents. She just don’t understand, no sirree!
The other coolness factor actually has a religious overtone to it. Believe it or not, as much as I rail against organized religion, I will admit a passing affinity for Pagan/Naturalistic religions. I’m not saying I believe in Paganism, the Great Mother, or any of the other accouterments of earth religions. I’m just saying it makes more sense to me than some old guy with a fickle temperament who made us for the simple purpose of loving and worshipping him; or in his son, who managed to get himself nailed to a big piece o’ wood. Being a hunter and an avid outdoorsmen, I understand the wonder and power of nature. There is no place in which I feel more comfortable, or at peace, than when I am alone in the woods. And, combine that awe with my obvious enjoyment of myths, and you get an almost irresistible attraction. In addition to all of that, I think my Irish-Celtic heritage predisposes me to marvel and find joy in the idea of natural spirits and/or creatures.
The other thing is, I have friends who are Wiccans and Neo-Pagans. They’re all great people. I do need to note that some of them are a little too anti-meat eating for my taste, and some of them are down right flaky. (You know what I’m talking about; the patchouli scented/dragon crystal wearing/astrology/numerology/aura reading nutjobs.) But, one of my best friends and a man I consider my brother, Curtis, is a Wiccan and he manages to hold down a normal job and not creep people out with the crazy talk that some of the alter-religious movements sometimes spout. Which is the way it should be, don't you think? I hold Christians and myself to a very high standard; one should keep their religious beliefs personal. Why shouldn't the New-Agers be held to the same standard? It's the way it should work, and yet, I always seem to get stuck talking to the one person at any party or function who has to fill me in on the joys of their latest religious fantasies or idealogies. Sigh.
In fact, as far as Curtis is concerned, I’ve asked him if he would be interested in doing the Burning Man festival next year. I think it would be great to just hang with the much more free minded and accepting purveyors of alternative religions. It’d be a whole lot better than going to a church revival or Christian concert. (Shudder!)
Besides, worst case scenario, I could always bite a few of the super whacky and infect them with my undead evil. Think how cool it would be to release undead, Neo-Pagan zombies on the unsuspecting, self-proclaimed arbiters of all that is right and good (Ie: Christians!). All of humanity will eventually succumb and become my evil, undead minions; but I might as well have fun before I attain single-handed, world domination, don’t you agree?
Thursday, December 15, 2005
There's a little black spot on the sun today...
I’ve been really depressed the last few days. I don’t know why. I just seem…blah. I don’t think it’s because of the job thing, although I’ll be the first to admit that I am really in a bad mood about my current job. I’ve been working for 2 ½ to 3 years towards either a promotion to the next level in my job, or at least some reward for all of my hard work. I’ve been told, by my last 3 managers, “Sure! We’ll get you there. You’re close! Really.”. If that’s so, why haven’t I been promoted? I’m really demoralized about that and I’m in that place where I’m done busting my ass and overachieving and doing everything in my power to get recognized, only to have no pay off. It just seems like I’ve been taken advantage of, you know?
So, anyway, I’ve been depressed. Really depressed, which is odd because I should really be in a good place right now. The class I’ve been training for the last 5 weeks wraps up tomorrow, I just had a pretty good birthday, Christmas is coming, and I just got my Gainshare bonus (My company profit shares, which means that I just got a check that is roughly 10% of my yearly income. Nice.) But, despite it all, I’m still not happy. I want to stay in bed all day, I can find no joy in thoughts of buying a Harley or stuff for my Jeep, and I’ve been listening to the Cure non-stop. Of course, I’ll be the first to admit I listen to the Cure a lot anyway; I mean they’re my favorite band. The thing is I haven’t been interested in any of their more upbeat fare. It’s been all Pornography, Seventeen Seconds, Carnage Visors, Disintegration, and skipping to all of the moody tracks on Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. Sigh. Maybe I need antidepressants?
Speaking of my birthday, I got a sweet PS2 along with a few games (Devil May Cry being my favorite). I got a few other cool things, like camo seat covers for the Blue Zombie, and some great photos from when I was a kid from my favorite aunt. My in-laws bought me a 175+ piece socket set, which was nice also. All in all, a pretty good haul.
So, I’ve been thinking about my writing a lot lately. I need to start working on a new novel. I have a great idea for a story, and I’ve started to write it several times, but I can only get the first part of the first chapter done. Sometimes the voices in my head don’t speak to me; which is the most frustrating part of writing. Either way, I need to get cracking. Maybe I’ll change the person. I was writing it in Third Person, but maybe changing the voice and person will help me find the voices in my head. Either way, I need to spend at least an hour or two a day writing. This Blog has helped immensely. It has, at the least, been an impetus for me to put some thoughts, any thoughts, down on paper.
Oh, and while we’re on the subject of the Blog:
DISCLAIMER: None, some, or all of the stuff you read on Doctorzombie.blogspot.com may or may not be works of fiction. This is an exercise for the good doctor to just write. I will endeavor to be completely honest when I’m being honest, but I can’t make any promises. Basically, I may make shit completely up. You get to figure out what. Mostly, it’ll be obvious. But other times it won’t. Confused yet? Yeah, me too. Just giving a heads up…
So, I'll be trudging home to my crypt now.
So, anyway, I’ve been depressed. Really depressed, which is odd because I should really be in a good place right now. The class I’ve been training for the last 5 weeks wraps up tomorrow, I just had a pretty good birthday, Christmas is coming, and I just got my Gainshare bonus (My company profit shares, which means that I just got a check that is roughly 10% of my yearly income. Nice.) But, despite it all, I’m still not happy. I want to stay in bed all day, I can find no joy in thoughts of buying a Harley or stuff for my Jeep, and I’ve been listening to the Cure non-stop. Of course, I’ll be the first to admit I listen to the Cure a lot anyway; I mean they’re my favorite band. The thing is I haven’t been interested in any of their more upbeat fare. It’s been all Pornography, Seventeen Seconds, Carnage Visors, Disintegration, and skipping to all of the moody tracks on Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. Sigh. Maybe I need antidepressants?
Speaking of my birthday, I got a sweet PS2 along with a few games (Devil May Cry being my favorite). I got a few other cool things, like camo seat covers for the Blue Zombie, and some great photos from when I was a kid from my favorite aunt. My in-laws bought me a 175+ piece socket set, which was nice also. All in all, a pretty good haul.
So, I’ve been thinking about my writing a lot lately. I need to start working on a new novel. I have a great idea for a story, and I’ve started to write it several times, but I can only get the first part of the first chapter done. Sometimes the voices in my head don’t speak to me; which is the most frustrating part of writing. Either way, I need to get cracking. Maybe I’ll change the person. I was writing it in Third Person, but maybe changing the voice and person will help me find the voices in my head. Either way, I need to spend at least an hour or two a day writing. This Blog has helped immensely. It has, at the least, been an impetus for me to put some thoughts, any thoughts, down on paper.
Oh, and while we’re on the subject of the Blog:
DISCLAIMER: None, some, or all of the stuff you read on Doctorzombie.blogspot.com may or may not be works of fiction. This is an exercise for the good doctor to just write. I will endeavor to be completely honest when I’m being honest, but I can’t make any promises. Basically, I may make shit completely up. You get to figure out what. Mostly, it’ll be obvious. But other times it won’t. Confused yet? Yeah, me too. Just giving a heads up…
So, I'll be trudging home to my crypt now.
For how much longer can I howl into this wind?
For how much longer
can I cry like this?
A thousand wasted hours a day
Just to feel my heart for a second
A thousand hours just thrown away
Just to feel my heart for a second
For how much longer can I howl into this wind?
A Thousand Hours
by The Cure
Saturday, December 10, 2005
And verily, thy put thine heads in thy sand!
Yet another anti-religious rant, but I was goaded into this recently and it's bothered me for a while. I figured I'd exorcise the demon by writing about it...
I frequently rail against Intelligent Design and general Christian wacko-ness. In regards to ID, the main point is that I don’t want Christians weaving their mythology into the curriculum and teachings of my children. That is not their choice. The teaching of religion and cultural myths (or the lack thereof) are entirely within the sphere of my responsibility as a parent. How dare you try to push your agenda and mythological belief in some dude in the sky upon my children!
Tangible, science, English, history, and math are acceptable for school. Mythological fables and parables are not. I think that’s the whole thing that chaps my ass. That and the blind belief the Christians have that their views are inarguably right and that everything that doesn’t fit their views is wrong. Add to that their insufferable willingness to tell you so.
Another thing that bothers me are recent comments Christians have made to me when they find out I’m an Atheist. Usually, it’s along the lines of:
Doctor Zombie: I’m an Atheist. I don’t believe in God.
Pushy, smug Christian: That’s all right, He believes in you.
Or, the even more annoying;
Doctor Zombie: I’m an Atheist. I don’t believe in God.
Christian: You don’t believe that.
Doctor Zombie: Really. There is no God.
Christian: Of course there is. You know there is.
Doctor Z: No. Really. There isn’t.
Christian: You don’t believe that.
Doctor Z: Yes. I do.
Christian (patting me on my head): No, you don’t.
It’s almost like they can’t believe that you don’t share their faith. And, it is unfathomable to them that you don’t - somewhere, deep down - believe in God. The incredulous part is that they presume to know you better than you know yourself. News flash: You don’t know Doctor Zombie. You know nothing about me. Don’t presume, and don’t refuse to lend what I say credence.
I don’t generally tell people I’m an Atheist. I don’t do that for two reasons; the first being the belief that I don’t want to hear about your very personal beliefs, and I will show you the same respect and shut up about mine. Faith, or lack thereof, is and should be a personal thing and not something to brag about or wear like a Purple Heart upon your sleeve. Second, I never mention my Atheism for the simple fact that people give me such grief. I’d rather not have to punch you in your righteous, smug throat. That said, if I tell you I’m an Atheist, it is because I feel it is important that you know it. Don’t condescend to me and act like I’m a slow kid who deserves your pity and gentle correction. Don’t insult me by implying that I am somehow dishonest and disingenuous when I proclaim my beliefs. It is disrespectful and stupid of you to do so.
So - - if you choose to disrespect me in this fashion, expect that I will call you out on your stupidity and blind, slavish devotion to a cult that was started 2500 years ago. And definitely don’t be insulted if I tell you in no uncertain terms to FUCK OFF.
Well - it's the Doctor's birthday weekend. Maybe there will be a wrapped Harley in the garage? Probably not, but I can always hope.
I'm off to start the weekend with the warm blood of a fresh victim. Unpleasant dreams, dear reader...
I frequently rail against Intelligent Design and general Christian wacko-ness. In regards to ID, the main point is that I don’t want Christians weaving their mythology into the curriculum and teachings of my children. That is not their choice. The teaching of religion and cultural myths (or the lack thereof) are entirely within the sphere of my responsibility as a parent. How dare you try to push your agenda and mythological belief in some dude in the sky upon my children!
Tangible, science, English, history, and math are acceptable for school. Mythological fables and parables are not. I think that’s the whole thing that chaps my ass. That and the blind belief the Christians have that their views are inarguably right and that everything that doesn’t fit their views is wrong. Add to that their insufferable willingness to tell you so.
Another thing that bothers me are recent comments Christians have made to me when they find out I’m an Atheist. Usually, it’s along the lines of:
Doctor Zombie: I’m an Atheist. I don’t believe in God.
Pushy, smug Christian: That’s all right, He believes in you.
Or, the even more annoying;
Doctor Zombie: I’m an Atheist. I don’t believe in God.
Christian: You don’t believe that.
Doctor Zombie: Really. There is no God.
Christian: Of course there is. You know there is.
Doctor Z: No. Really. There isn’t.
Christian: You don’t believe that.
Doctor Z: Yes. I do.
Christian (patting me on my head): No, you don’t.
It’s almost like they can’t believe that you don’t share their faith. And, it is unfathomable to them that you don’t - somewhere, deep down - believe in God. The incredulous part is that they presume to know you better than you know yourself. News flash: You don’t know Doctor Zombie. You know nothing about me. Don’t presume, and don’t refuse to lend what I say credence.
I don’t generally tell people I’m an Atheist. I don’t do that for two reasons; the first being the belief that I don’t want to hear about your very personal beliefs, and I will show you the same respect and shut up about mine. Faith, or lack thereof, is and should be a personal thing and not something to brag about or wear like a Purple Heart upon your sleeve. Second, I never mention my Atheism for the simple fact that people give me such grief. I’d rather not have to punch you in your righteous, smug throat. That said, if I tell you I’m an Atheist, it is because I feel it is important that you know it. Don’t condescend to me and act like I’m a slow kid who deserves your pity and gentle correction. Don’t insult me by implying that I am somehow dishonest and disingenuous when I proclaim my beliefs. It is disrespectful and stupid of you to do so.
So - - if you choose to disrespect me in this fashion, expect that I will call you out on your stupidity and blind, slavish devotion to a cult that was started 2500 years ago. And definitely don’t be insulted if I tell you in no uncertain terms to FUCK OFF.
Well - it's the Doctor's birthday weekend. Maybe there will be a wrapped Harley in the garage? Probably not, but I can always hope.
I'm off to start the weekend with the warm blood of a fresh victim. Unpleasant dreams, dear reader...
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Sigh...
What a day.
Got up this morning, excited because my work is offering an inhouse bachelor's degree program. So I got after about 2 hours of sleep, got the kids on the bus, slurped down some coffee (which I don't really like, but I needed it dammit!), drove into work and found out... it's a BA in Business Administration. That is soooo not going to help me. I need about 21 hours towards my BA in English. So I left work grumpy.
Came into work later, got THE call about the job. Guess what... I didn't get the job. The manager said that I was the perfect candidate and that I would have had the job if the winning candidate hadn't already been doing the job for 5 years. The manager also said the job was mine, if the other candidate hadn't been doing a lateral move. Bonus, they want me to apply again if another job hits the board because everyone liked me so much.
If that's the case, why don't I have the friggin job?!?
Finally, to add insult to injury, I was supposed to have Friday night off to have dinner with the family for my birthday. I went to the trouble of setting up helpers to sit in on my class and made sure I had plenty of coverage. I was really, really looking forward to this. Then I'm notified that my manager doesn't want me to take off. It's completely arbitrary as to why. She just felt that I should have to stay at work that night.
I'm in a bad place right now. I'm thinking black murderous thoughts and I'm thinking I'm trapped in a job I don't want to do witha boss I don't particularly care for - - especially now. It's not like I didn't love the job at one time. I still do love the job. I just want to move on. I'm so tired of doing the same shit every day. I need change, I need a challenge, I need more money because I'm maxed out in my damn salary range and I've got no chance of any kind of raise any time in the future.
I'm leaving work tonight, I'm going home, and I'm going to have a few beers. And I'm going to try not to think about how depressed I am.
The only thing that's looking up right now is that I have my birthday coming up and I've made the decision to try and go back to school. Maybe that will give me some direction. Maybe that will fill this emptiness. Ambition sucks.
My! Aren't I being the whiny, melodramatic, drama queen! Enough, the good Doctor must depart in his hearse to go drink frothy adult beverages to dull his pain!
Got up this morning, excited because my work is offering an inhouse bachelor's degree program. So I got after about 2 hours of sleep, got the kids on the bus, slurped down some coffee (which I don't really like, but I needed it dammit!), drove into work and found out... it's a BA in Business Administration. That is soooo not going to help me. I need about 21 hours towards my BA in English. So I left work grumpy.
Came into work later, got THE call about the job. Guess what... I didn't get the job. The manager said that I was the perfect candidate and that I would have had the job if the winning candidate hadn't already been doing the job for 5 years. The manager also said the job was mine, if the other candidate hadn't been doing a lateral move. Bonus, they want me to apply again if another job hits the board because everyone liked me so much.
If that's the case, why don't I have the friggin job?!?
Finally, to add insult to injury, I was supposed to have Friday night off to have dinner with the family for my birthday. I went to the trouble of setting up helpers to sit in on my class and made sure I had plenty of coverage. I was really, really looking forward to this. Then I'm notified that my manager doesn't want me to take off. It's completely arbitrary as to why. She just felt that I should have to stay at work that night.
I'm in a bad place right now. I'm thinking black murderous thoughts and I'm thinking I'm trapped in a job I don't want to do witha boss I don't particularly care for - - especially now. It's not like I didn't love the job at one time. I still do love the job. I just want to move on. I'm so tired of doing the same shit every day. I need change, I need a challenge, I need more money because I'm maxed out in my damn salary range and I've got no chance of any kind of raise any time in the future.
I'm leaving work tonight, I'm going home, and I'm going to have a few beers. And I'm going to try not to think about how depressed I am.
The only thing that's looking up right now is that I have my birthday coming up and I've made the decision to try and go back to school. Maybe that will give me some direction. Maybe that will fill this emptiness. Ambition sucks.
My! Aren't I being the whiny, melodramatic, drama queen! Enough, the good Doctor must depart in his hearse to go drink frothy adult beverages to dull his pain!
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Murderous Thoughts
Bah humbug.
As I’ve probably already mentioned, I’m an antisocial bastard. I probably also have sociopathic tendencies. I do know that I have very flexible morality. It’s funny really. I get downright weepy when I think about those poor animals from Hurricane Katrina; floundering with malnutrition and loneliness in shelters around the country. Balance that with the fact that I would have absolutely no qualms about looking down the sights of a gun and killing a fellow human being. (The rules according to Leon, the Professional: “No woman, no children”) Anybody else, though. They’re fair game. Besides, if I went into the killing for hire business I’d probably find some absolution in the fact that, if I show up on your doorstep…you most likely did something bad to bring me there.
Anyway, as it applies to the holidays… I find it slightly amusing that I sometimes forget my outside world face and show the real me. Mrs. Zombie is especially unhappy when this happens. You see, she’s a nice person. I have to yell at her because, if I didn’t, she’d get out of her car in downtown Cleveland to give winos blankets and food. I have no such compunction or charitable vein. And, as she spends so much time with me, she sees the real Dr. Zombie more than most people do.
Take this last weekend. We went out to do some shopping. I’m already feeling very un-fucking-Christmas-y. To make matters worse, I’ve got to deal with crowds. People, pushing and shoving and writhing in the throes of some sick, twisted, orgiastic, and selfish desire to get the hottest new toy of the season. It makes me cranky and sullen. That’s not a good place to be when you know you have severe antisocial tendencies. It’s times like this that it takes everything I have not to punch someone in the throat and stand back, relishing the gurgling sound they’ll make as they lie gasping for air like that fish at the end of that Faith No More video.
So I was sitting in Mrs. Zombie’s Jeep outside of the local Target, waiting for several morons to stop walking in front of my car. One particularly cow-faced and coiffed soccer mom paused in front of the car to dial her cell phone. She actually stood there, in the middle of the aisle, dialing or text messaging or whatever. So, having had enough and having reached my tolerance for stupidity and rudeness, I honked the horn. The cow made a bleating noise and started, looking at me with disgust.
She then proceeded to flip me off.
Now, had my children not been in the car, and had my wife not yelled, I’m certain I would have either run the soccer mom down or gotten out of the car and eaten her liver. As it was, my wife, who had reached over to grab my arm angrily suddenly pulled back. I looked at her shocked face and growled, “What?”
“You’re thinking about killing her!” she breathed with a shudder, “I can see it on your face. I can actually see you imagining her murder!”
I, realizing I had been sussed out, quickly smiled, “Of course not, honey. I wouldn’t dream of harming that lovely woman. ‘Tis the season, and all. Ho ho ho?”
She looked at me as though I was crazy, shaking her head in disgust. I continued smiling. (Note to self - Be aware when you are being emotionally naked!) I pulled away in the Jeep, but not before glancing at the soccer mom as she scurried onto the sidewalk with a horror-struck look. She had seen my intentions, too.
‘You’re lucky, Ms. Cell Phone,’ I thought, ‘you’ve been saved by the fact that I’d probably never get a Harley if the Missus saw me gnawing on your liver.’
As I’ve probably already mentioned, I’m an antisocial bastard. I probably also have sociopathic tendencies. I do know that I have very flexible morality. It’s funny really. I get downright weepy when I think about those poor animals from Hurricane Katrina; floundering with malnutrition and loneliness in shelters around the country. Balance that with the fact that I would have absolutely no qualms about looking down the sights of a gun and killing a fellow human being. (The rules according to Leon, the Professional: “No woman, no children”) Anybody else, though. They’re fair game. Besides, if I went into the killing for hire business I’d probably find some absolution in the fact that, if I show up on your doorstep…you most likely did something bad to bring me there.
Anyway, as it applies to the holidays… I find it slightly amusing that I sometimes forget my outside world face and show the real me. Mrs. Zombie is especially unhappy when this happens. You see, she’s a nice person. I have to yell at her because, if I didn’t, she’d get out of her car in downtown Cleveland to give winos blankets and food. I have no such compunction or charitable vein. And, as she spends so much time with me, she sees the real Dr. Zombie more than most people do.
Take this last weekend. We went out to do some shopping. I’m already feeling very un-fucking-Christmas-y. To make matters worse, I’ve got to deal with crowds. People, pushing and shoving and writhing in the throes of some sick, twisted, orgiastic, and selfish desire to get the hottest new toy of the season. It makes me cranky and sullen. That’s not a good place to be when you know you have severe antisocial tendencies. It’s times like this that it takes everything I have not to punch someone in the throat and stand back, relishing the gurgling sound they’ll make as they lie gasping for air like that fish at the end of that Faith No More video.
So I was sitting in Mrs. Zombie’s Jeep outside of the local Target, waiting for several morons to stop walking in front of my car. One particularly cow-faced and coiffed soccer mom paused in front of the car to dial her cell phone. She actually stood there, in the middle of the aisle, dialing or text messaging or whatever. So, having had enough and having reached my tolerance for stupidity and rudeness, I honked the horn. The cow made a bleating noise and started, looking at me with disgust.
She then proceeded to flip me off.
Now, had my children not been in the car, and had my wife not yelled, I’m certain I would have either run the soccer mom down or gotten out of the car and eaten her liver. As it was, my wife, who had reached over to grab my arm angrily suddenly pulled back. I looked at her shocked face and growled, “What?”
“You’re thinking about killing her!” she breathed with a shudder, “I can see it on your face. I can actually see you imagining her murder!”
I, realizing I had been sussed out, quickly smiled, “Of course not, honey. I wouldn’t dream of harming that lovely woman. ‘Tis the season, and all. Ho ho ho?”
She looked at me as though I was crazy, shaking her head in disgust. I continued smiling. (Note to self - Be aware when you are being emotionally naked!) I pulled away in the Jeep, but not before glancing at the soccer mom as she scurried onto the sidewalk with a horror-struck look. She had seen my intentions, too.
‘You’re lucky, Ms. Cell Phone,’ I thought, ‘you’ve been saved by the fact that I’d probably never get a Harley if the Missus saw me gnawing on your liver.’
Friday, December 02, 2005
My god...how'd I get so old?!?
So - - I’m back. And no deer. No big deal. I was horn hunting and passed on a few does. I was going to go hunting again tomorrow, but we’re trapped in the midst of a major snow storm and I know that Mrs. Zombie will bust my balls if I push going hunting tomorrow. We’ll see.
Still no word on the job. The final manager I interviewed with assured me that this would all be wrapped up no later than today. And yet, no call. Sigh. Maybe next week. The thing that keeps me going is that, generally, they do turn downs first. Which means, the longer I don’t hear…the better my chances.
Oh my god! Found a link to this blog. This is one of the funniest damn things I’ve ever seen. It’s Family Circus cartoons with the captions replaced by quotes from HP Lovecraft. Beautiful. Brilliant. And yet another thing that I wished I’d freakin’ thought of!
Oh – while hunting this weekend, I thought of an addition to the Big Game Grand Slam list to make it the requisite 29 animals. Alligator. I’ve got to think ‘gator hunting isn’t that hard, but I could be wrong. There’s something to be said about tangling with a 50 million year old living dinosaur with big teeth and a cranky mood. And, in the grand scheme of things, it’d probably not be too expensive. I’m still working on this. I expect I’ll do a spin off blog to detail this probable project. In that same vein, I’ll be spinning off another blog to cover another project - - The Celebrity Stalker Site. Watch for details…
I turn 35 in a little over a week. In honor of the momentous occasion, I’ve decided to put together a list of goals for my eventual mid, mid-life crisis. I was not meant for a life of mediocrity. This I know. And now, as I realize that I am much older than I wanted to be before I became famous, I need to get to work. So, the list is as follows. (And I will be sending a copy to Mrs. Zombie with an attached comment that the list does not include a mistress or a sports car. But…that can always change if I don’t get the requisite support. I mean it! )
Doctor Zombie’s Mid, Mid-life Crisis Goals
1. Publish another novel.
2. Start my own company or business (Publishing Company or Multimedia Company)
3. Hunt and kill at least 10 of North America’s 29 Big Game animals in the next 15 years.
4. Finish my Bachelors Degree and go to Grad School or Law School.
5. Meet at least 3 celebrities and walk a red carpet for at least one major news event.
So, there it is. Not too ambitious I hope… Sigh. What I wouldn’t do for a little fame, or infamy, or whatever. Again, I was not destined for a life of mediocrity.
Now I'm cranky. Well, the only way to cheer myself is to go down to the basement and let the Gimp out of the box. "It rubs the lotion on It's skin or It gets the hose again!"
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Christmas Foolishness
I found this link over on SEB (That’s Stupid Evil Bastard – he’s in my list of links. Go check him out!) This is what happens when tech geeks have too much eggnog! The creator of the WMV file synced Xmas lights to Trans Siberian Orchestra's Wizards of Winter. This is absolutely breathtaking and not doctored in any way!
I found this link off of MSNBC. It’s an article on a blog about the current weaponry used in Iraq. Gun Porn. Just a great read about what’s working and what’s not.
For my part, I’ll be – once again – incommunicado. I have to go freeze my nuts off in an attempt to kill a trophy buck again. They’re predicting 2+ feet of snow over the next two days. This can’t bode well for the good Doctor…
Happy Turkey Carcass Day.
-The Doctor-
I found this link off of MSNBC. It’s an article on a blog about the current weaponry used in Iraq. Gun Porn. Just a great read about what’s working and what’s not.
For my part, I’ll be – once again – incommunicado. I have to go freeze my nuts off in an attempt to kill a trophy buck again. They’re predicting 2+ feet of snow over the next two days. This can’t bode well for the good Doctor…
Happy Turkey Carcass Day.
-The Doctor-
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Quick update...
Some random thoughts:
1. There are two ways to do things; the right way, and the wrong way. Then there's my way, which is like the wrong way...only faster.
2. I probably hate you.
I crave warm human flesh. Goodnight for now.
1. There are two ways to do things; the right way, and the wrong way. Then there's my way, which is like the wrong way...only faster.
2. I probably hate you.
I crave warm human flesh. Goodnight for now.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Fundie Baiting
I've been wanting to get one of those anti-fish stickers. You know what I'm talking about - those fish stickers that Christians put on the back of their cars to proudly proclaim that they are true believers? Right next to their 'W. in 2004' Stickers? The origin of the fish symbol in Christianty goes back to when Christians where unable to worship. So, they took the fish (whose named in greek - icthius(sp?) - was a synonym for Jesus, Son of god, and saviour) and drew it's likeness somewhere to let other Christians know who their allies in flogging were. Now, the Christians put silver fish stickers on the backs of their Buicks and Chevys.
You've seen 'em, right? Those stickers that undeniably state that the driver is a) born again and willing to pass judgement on those poor, heathen souls that aren't, or b) a member of the Christian right who, in a recent poll said that they felt that 'Christianity was under attack.' Funny that - considering that the Christian right (as represented by the current Republican majority in Congress, the POTUS, and soon, the Supreme Court of the US) controls the government right now!!! Anyway, I digress...
So, being who I am, (an undead, liberal, atheistic, and socialist misanthrope), I can't really let the Fundies be. So I want to get one of those anti-fish stickers. I'm torn though. They have the obvious choice of the Darwin Fish with the name of Darwin in the middle and two cute little feet proudly marching towards dry land, evolution, and the eventual formation of opposable thumbs. Apropos when one considers the current raging debate over Creationism..ooops...I mean Intelligent Design. "ID is NOT Creationism. No sirree! Uh-uh," sez the Christian right, in an attempt to blatantly deny they're trying to bring Creationism through the backstage door in a costume. It's like when Bugs Bunny dressed up as a cute girl bunny. Like Elmer Fudd, the Fundies hope we'll fall for it. The problem is, Elmer Fudd was retarded. The rest of us who can, at the least, tie our shoes and read beyond a second grade level, aren't so dumb.
So we have the Darwin fish which proclaims my love of and devotion to the mistress and wonder that is science, and then there's my second choice. A Chthulhu Fish. For those who don't know Chthulhu is a creation of HP Lovecraft, an early 20th century writer of wierd tales who is my favorite author. For the good Doctor, many a high school night was spent reading Lovecraft, or role playing to the Chaosium RPG Call of Cthulhu. The geek in me is drawn to this almost more than the Darwin fish. There's something about being in the parking lot and having a perturbed, yet confused, Christian ask me what the heck my Jesus fish parody with wings and a tentacled face means. The conversation would go something like this...
Christian (squinting and looking predictably irritated at the sticker, and then me): What's Cu..Cut..Chth...What's that sticker mean?
Doctor Zombie: The word's Cthuhlu.
Christian: What's it mean?
Doctor Zombie: Cthulhu is a mad Elder God who sleeps in the ancient sunken city of Rhlyeh. He slumbers and awaits the day when he rises up and calls upon his servants; Nyarlothotep, the Black Goat with a Thousand Young; Dagon; and the myriad evil and loathsome Deep Ones! He will lay waste to cities, burn the sky, and devour all of humanity. Ia! Ia! Cthulhu Phtagn!
Christian: Come children. Get in the SUV. Now! Don't look at the scary man!
Doctor Zombie (as they pull out with a squeal): Remember: Jesus saves, and so does Cthulhu... but that's probably because he wants to leave a a few of us to eat as a late night snack!
Hmmm... I'll have to make a choice. But it's sooo hard...
You've seen 'em, right? Those stickers that undeniably state that the driver is a) born again and willing to pass judgement on those poor, heathen souls that aren't, or b) a member of the Christian right who, in a recent poll said that they felt that 'Christianity was under attack.' Funny that - considering that the Christian right (as represented by the current Republican majority in Congress, the POTUS, and soon, the Supreme Court of the US) controls the government right now!!! Anyway, I digress...
So, being who I am, (an undead, liberal, atheistic, and socialist misanthrope), I can't really let the Fundies be. So I want to get one of those anti-fish stickers. I'm torn though. They have the obvious choice of the Darwin Fish with the name of Darwin in the middle and two cute little feet proudly marching towards dry land, evolution, and the eventual formation of opposable thumbs. Apropos when one considers the current raging debate over Creationism..ooops...I mean Intelligent Design. "ID is NOT Creationism. No sirree! Uh-uh," sez the Christian right, in an attempt to blatantly deny they're trying to bring Creationism through the backstage door in a costume. It's like when Bugs Bunny dressed up as a cute girl bunny. Like Elmer Fudd, the Fundies hope we'll fall for it. The problem is, Elmer Fudd was retarded. The rest of us who can, at the least, tie our shoes and read beyond a second grade level, aren't so dumb.
So we have the Darwin fish which proclaims my love of and devotion to the mistress and wonder that is science, and then there's my second choice. A Chthulhu Fish. For those who don't know Chthulhu is a creation of HP Lovecraft, an early 20th century writer of wierd tales who is my favorite author. For the good Doctor, many a high school night was spent reading Lovecraft, or role playing to the Chaosium RPG Call of Cthulhu. The geek in me is drawn to this almost more than the Darwin fish. There's something about being in the parking lot and having a perturbed, yet confused, Christian ask me what the heck my Jesus fish parody with wings and a tentacled face means. The conversation would go something like this...
Christian (squinting and looking predictably irritated at the sticker, and then me): What's Cu..Cut..Chth...What's that sticker mean?
Doctor Zombie: The word's Cthuhlu.
Christian: What's it mean?
Doctor Zombie: Cthulhu is a mad Elder God who sleeps in the ancient sunken city of Rhlyeh. He slumbers and awaits the day when he rises up and calls upon his servants; Nyarlothotep, the Black Goat with a Thousand Young; Dagon; and the myriad evil and loathsome Deep Ones! He will lay waste to cities, burn the sky, and devour all of humanity. Ia! Ia! Cthulhu Phtagn!
Christian: Come children. Get in the SUV. Now! Don't look at the scary man!
Doctor Zombie (as they pull out with a squeal): Remember: Jesus saves, and so does Cthulhu... but that's probably because he wants to leave a a few of us to eat as a late night snack!
Hmmm... I'll have to make a choice. But it's sooo hard...
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
More Hunting Thoughts...
Quick update on my weekend trip.
So I went bow hunting this last weekend. It was all right. I shot at a nice 6 point and hit it high. My arrow went through and through, but it didn’t look like a fatal shot. Or maybe it was, I don’t know. I wound up tracking the deer for 5-6 hours, but the blood trail dried up. Makes me sad. I hate the idea of losing a deer like that. Bow hunting really sucks in that regard. If I had shot it with my .12 gauge, I’d be deciding whether to do a full mount or a western mount on his dead carcass. It always feels bad to lose a deer. It’s part of being a responsible sportsman and ethical hunter. Crap. I’m really bummed.
In terms of the job, I didn’t hear anything last week, but then got a call from the hiring manager today, only to have him say they wanted to do one more, final, final round . So, still waiting. Damn it. The bonus is that I know the manager really well, so I hope I do OK. God I hate this stress.
Had a thought while I was sitting for hours on end in my tree stand. There is a thing called the Grand Slam of North American big game hunting. It involves hunting and killing all 29 or 30 species of big game in North America (the number fluctuates.) I began thinking it would be cool to try to do this, but I can’t afford it. Crap - - the average person couldn’t afford one or two of some of the big game hunts out there. But that got me thinking (as I’m wont to when left alone too long), what if you could do it, on a budget. I then thought it would make a great book – sort of a how to for the everyman. I did a preliminary internet search and could not, for the life of me, find a list of the animals on the list. I think I might want to look into this more. Here’s a list of what, I think, MUST be on the list. (Some internet searching was done, this is a best guess. I’ve excluded a few larger animals that would surely fit the bill, but are protected or prohibitively expensive/rare – like the muskox or the tule elk). I’ve also added turkeys to the list. They may not be considered big game, but GODS how I love turkey hunting…
Deer or Other Ruminants
1) Mule Deer
2) Whitetail
3) Rocky Mountain Elk
4) Manitoba Elk
5) Roosevelt Elk
6) Moose
7) Caribou
8) Prong Horn Antelope
9) Coues Deer
10) Bison
Bear
11) Grizzly
12) Black
13) Polar
14 )Brown
Cats
15) Cougar
16) Mountain Lion
17) Bobcat
Sheep
18) Dall
19) Desert Bighorn
20) Stone or Fannin
21) Rocky Mountain or California Big Horn
Others
22) Razorback Hog
23) Boar
24) Wolf
Not sure if they’re considered big game, but they round out the numbers
25) Osceola Turkey
26) Eastern Turkey
27) Rio Grande Turkey
28) Merriam’s Turkey
Wow. That’s an impressive list. I imagine one could spend a lifetime trying to bag all of those animals. And probably a lot of money… gobs of money... obscene, unholy amounts of money. Hmmm… More thought will have to be given to this. Maybe I could pare the list down, bearing in mind the efforts to remain frugal. Hmmm…
More updates later…
So I went bow hunting this last weekend. It was all right. I shot at a nice 6 point and hit it high. My arrow went through and through, but it didn’t look like a fatal shot. Or maybe it was, I don’t know. I wound up tracking the deer for 5-6 hours, but the blood trail dried up. Makes me sad. I hate the idea of losing a deer like that. Bow hunting really sucks in that regard. If I had shot it with my .12 gauge, I’d be deciding whether to do a full mount or a western mount on his dead carcass. It always feels bad to lose a deer. It’s part of being a responsible sportsman and ethical hunter. Crap. I’m really bummed.
In terms of the job, I didn’t hear anything last week, but then got a call from the hiring manager today
Had a thought while I was sitting for hours on end in my tree stand. There is a thing called the Grand Slam of North American big game hunting. It involves hunting and killing all 29 or 30 species of big game in North America (the number fluctuates.) I began thinking it would be cool to try to do this, but I can’t afford it. Crap - - the average person couldn’t afford one or two of some of the big game hunts out there. But that got me thinking (as I’m wont to when left alone too long), what if you could do it, on a budget. I then thought it would make a great book – sort of a how to for the everyman. I did a preliminary internet search and could not, for the life of me, find a list of the animals on the list. I think I might want to look into this more. Here’s a list of what, I think, MUST be on the list. (Some internet searching was done, this is a best guess. I’ve excluded a few larger animals that would surely fit the bill, but are protected or prohibitively expensive/rare – like the muskox or the tule elk). I’ve also added turkeys to the list. They may not be considered big game, but GODS how I love turkey hunting…
Deer or Other Ruminants
1) Mule Deer
2) Whitetail
3) Rocky Mountain Elk
4) Manitoba Elk
5) Roosevelt Elk
6) Moose
7) Caribou
8) Prong Horn Antelope
9) Coues Deer
10) Bison
Bear
11) Grizzly
12) Black
13) Polar
14 )Brown
Cats
15) Cougar
16) Mountain Lion
17) Bobcat
Sheep
18) Dall
19) Desert Bighorn
20) Stone or Fannin
21) Rocky Mountain or California Big Horn
Others
22) Razorback Hog
23) Boar
24) Wolf
Not sure if they’re considered big game, but they round out the numbers
25) Osceola Turkey
26) Eastern Turkey
27) Rio Grande Turkey
28) Merriam’s Turkey
Wow. That’s an impressive list. I imagine one could spend a lifetime trying to bag all of those animals. And probably a lot of money… gobs of money... obscene, unholy amounts of money. Hmmm… More thought will have to be given to this. Maybe I could pare the list down, bearing in mind the efforts to remain frugal. Hmmm…
More updates later…
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Deer Hunting & Wind Storms
So, a quick, and very late update as it’s been a few days since I’ve posted…
I’m leaving tomorrow to go bow hunting, so I’ll be incommunicado until probably Monday of next week. The worst part is I’m supposed to hear about the new job this week. That means I’ll be checking my voicemail all week – from the top of a friggin’ mountain. Sigh. I just wish they’d call me and tell me yes or no. The stress and suspense is killing me. The stress has actually made my face break out. And, I haven’t worked out or eaten right in a week and a half. All I want is some word. Just tell me - - yes or no. Please.
Over on the official Spiderman site I found a picture of Thomas Hayden Church’s character in the new Spidey movie. To be honest I was hoping that he would be playing Venom, but now that I’ve seen this, I gotta say I’m pleased it wasn’t. He fits perfectly as Flint Marko. I’m going to be very excited to see this. And, for those that don’t know, Spiderman is my favorite superhero. In fact, at my mom and dad’s, I have a box filled with Spiderman comic books. And I mean incredible Spidey comics. Like #1 - #40, and then intermittent editions up to #150 or so. My father gave them to me when I was about 12, and they’ll go to my son when he’s old enough. Add into that mix the fact that I collected through most of the 80’s and…and…and I just realized that I may very well be rich and never have to worry about money again. Eep. Maybe I could…naw. Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t sell them.
Just bought and re-watched Episode III. Goddamn! I love this movie! Very awesome! George Lucas was on my shit list for a long time, but he redeemed himself with this one. My seven year old and I have watched it 4 times in the last 3 days. I’m so glad I broke down and took him to see this in the movie theater. I had my doubts, what with the whole “PG-13, killing younglings, Anakin catching on frickin’ fire!” vibe, but I’m glad he’ll be able to say his old man took him to see at least one of the Star Wars movies in a theater. That’s what being a dad’s about…And I’m so proud that he makes a point of correcting his five year old sister on minutia from all the flicks. He’s a little geek in training! A regular chip off the old block!
Oh, and I totally forgot! We had a bunch of storms come through on Sunday. High winds and rain. It was the same storm system that killed 22 people in that trailer park in Indiana. Anyway, we went out shopping in my wife’s jeep and came home to find a mammoth branch lying beside my Jeep and my entire HOOD CAVED IN! I am not happy. Don’t mess with my Jeep. So, I dropped it off at the body shop today and got my rental, a crappy Chevy Malibu. And me on my way to go hunting this week. Do you think my damage waiver will cover deer blood in the rental? I am struck inarticulate in anger about this. NOT HAPPY!
Anyway, that’s all for now. The Doctor must go and slay woodland creatures.
I’m leaving tomorrow to go bow hunting, so I’ll be incommunicado until probably Monday of next week. The worst part is I’m supposed to hear about the new job this week. That means I’ll be checking my voicemail all week – from the top of a friggin’ mountain. Sigh. I just wish they’d call me and tell me yes or no. The stress and suspense is killing me. The stress has actually made my face break out. And, I haven’t worked out or eaten right in a week and a half. All I want is some word. Just tell me - - yes or no. Please.
Over on the official Spiderman site I found a picture of Thomas Hayden Church’s character in the new Spidey movie. To be honest I was hoping that he would be playing Venom, but now that I’ve seen this, I gotta say I’m pleased it wasn’t. He fits perfectly as Flint Marko. I’m going to be very excited to see this. And, for those that don’t know, Spiderman is my favorite superhero. In fact, at my mom and dad’s, I have a box filled with Spiderman comic books. And I mean incredible Spidey comics. Like #1 - #40, and then intermittent editions up to #150 or so. My father gave them to me when I was about 12, and they’ll go to my son when he’s old enough. Add into that mix the fact that I collected through most of the 80’s and…and…and I just realized that I may very well be rich and never have to worry about money again. Eep. Maybe I could…naw. Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t sell them.
Just bought and re-watched Episode III. Goddamn! I love this movie! Very awesome! George Lucas was on my shit list for a long time, but he redeemed himself with this one. My seven year old and I have watched it 4 times in the last 3 days. I’m so glad I broke down and took him to see this in the movie theater. I had my doubts, what with the whole “PG-13, killing younglings, Anakin catching on frickin’ fire!” vibe, but I’m glad he’ll be able to say his old man took him to see at least one of the Star Wars movies in a theater. That’s what being a dad’s about…And I’m so proud that he makes a point of correcting his five year old sister on minutia from all the flicks. He’s a little geek in training! A regular chip off the old block!
Oh, and I totally forgot! We had a bunch of storms come through on Sunday. High winds and rain. It was the same storm system that killed 22 people in that trailer park in Indiana. Anyway, we went out shopping in my wife’s jeep and came home to find a mammoth branch lying beside my Jeep and my entire HOOD CAVED IN! I am not happy. Don’t mess with my Jeep. So, I dropped it off at the body shop today and got my rental, a crappy Chevy Malibu. And me on my way to go hunting this week. Do you think my damage waiver will cover deer blood in the rental? I am struck inarticulate in anger about this. NOT HAPPY!
Anyway, that’s all for now. The Doctor must go and slay woodland creatures.
Friday, November 04, 2005
The Negotiator
I saw this on MSNBC the other day and it made me sad. Katrina Pets. Doctor Zombie may be an evil, sociopathic bastard, but god how I love dogs. The article made my heart hurt. I’ve since been driving Mrs. Zombie crazy with talk of adopting another dog. (There are a couple shelters here in Northeastern Ohio that have Katrina rescues. Her response was “No more dogs, no more kid, and certainly no more husbands.” Unfortunately for her, and our domestic tranquility, I’ll probably push the point and push the point, and then just come home with a dog. You see we've already got two dogs - Charlie, a fat assed, lazy beagle; and Nicky, a cranky, yappy Rat Terrier we rescued. Both dogs are a handful. Add to that mix two kids (three if you count me, the Doctor, as Mrs. Zombie is wont to say), and a smallish century home - and Mrs. Zombie is already at her wits end.
The thing is, those poor puppies are sad. That should count for something, right? So, I continue to push my luck...
The problem is, I’ve been pushing my luck a little too much lately with the missus. You see, I recently paid off my Kawasaki Vulcan 500. The Vulcan was a compromise purchase that was cheap. I wanted a motorcycle, and I bugged Mrs. Zombie to the point of giving in, provided it was cheap. So I went out and bought the first, cheap cruiser I could find. Sadly, I should have held out and bought what I wanted – a Harley. So, now that the Vulcan’s paid off, I’ve actively begun the campaign. I’ve even found two Harleys at my local HD shop – a 2004 Sportster Custom 1200, and a 1998 FXD that are within what I consider a reasonable price range. The FXD is what I would prefer as it has the 1450 Twin Cam 88 V-Twin in it and is not a ‘starter’ Harley. It has a gorgeous Harley Paint Shop Custom color (Real Teal) and is chromed out with some great Screaming Eagle accessories. The Sporty is nice also, and is customized as well with a gorgeous black and gold paints scheme and lots of chrome. They’re about the same price. The Good Doctor gets goose bumps thinking about rolling down the road with the rumble of a Harley beneath him. The ONLY thing I don’t like about either ride is that they are not black. The teal is not as masculine or spooky a color as I’d like, and as befits one of my brooding and gloomy temperament. The Sporty’s closer, but still not quite dark enough. Of course, If I buy this Harley, I’ll no doubt have it for years to come and will invariably repaint it later. So it’s a good trade-off.
Anyway, I’ve begun actively campaigning to trade the Vulcan in on a Harley, and the little missus has actively begun beating me. The funny part is that both of my kids have begun giving her a hard time, saying Daddy Zombie should get a Harley. I swear, upon their lives, I did not put them up to this… not that Mrs. Zombie believes that for a minute. For my part, I’ll keep pushing it, but I’m not sure if she’ll give in this time. I may have a better chance with the Katrina rescued dog… I’ll keep you posted.
On other fronts, I’ve applied for a new job here where I work. As I’ve mentioned, I’m a corporate trainer for a Fortune 50 company. Whereas I love training, my goal is to become an Instructional Designer. (Lots more money and a job where I’m actively writing, how could I go wrong?) In the last 2 weeks I’ve done 1 phone screen, 4 face to face interviews, and a final phone screen today with a manager from our Austin office. I’m holding my breath that I get this job. This is what I really want to do. I should know within a week whether I get it or not. I hope so because I would hate to think that I got all the way through the process and then didn’t make it because of some stupid reason. I’ll be calling on the Dark Pagan Gods and various other unnatural and unholy magics to influence the hiring manager, so keep me in your dark prayers, dear readers…
Besides, if I get the job, maybe Mrs. Zombie will let me get the Harley…
Later (8:22pm)
I saw this article and can only say… “NOOOOOOO!” I love Vanilla Coke and this just plain sucks. Thank god they still have Cherry Coke. (Or, Virgin Coke as my friends and I have called it since high school…) Now I'm stuck with the sickeningly sweet Vanilla Pepsi. Doctor Zombie is not happy. I expect I will be tracking down some Coke executives and turning them into mindless zombie minions.
The thing is, those poor puppies are sad. That should count for something, right? So, I continue to push my luck...
The problem is, I’ve been pushing my luck a little too much lately with the missus. You see, I recently paid off my Kawasaki Vulcan 500. The Vulcan was a compromise purchase that was cheap. I wanted a motorcycle, and I bugged Mrs. Zombie to the point of giving in, provided it was cheap. So I went out and bought the first, cheap cruiser I could find. Sadly, I should have held out and bought what I wanted – a Harley. So, now that the Vulcan’s paid off, I’ve actively begun the campaign. I’ve even found two Harleys at my local HD shop – a 2004 Sportster Custom 1200, and a 1998 FXD that are within what I consider a reasonable price range. The FXD is what I would prefer as it has the 1450 Twin Cam 88 V-Twin in it and is not a ‘starter’ Harley. It has a gorgeous Harley Paint Shop Custom color (Real Teal) and is chromed out with some great Screaming Eagle accessories. The Sporty is nice also, and is customized as well with a gorgeous black and gold paints scheme and lots of chrome. They’re about the same price. The Good Doctor gets goose bumps thinking about rolling down the road with the rumble of a Harley beneath him. The ONLY thing I don’t like about either ride is that they are not black. The teal is not as masculine or spooky a color as I’d like, and as befits one of my brooding and gloomy temperament. The Sporty’s closer, but still not quite dark enough. Of course, If I buy this Harley, I’ll no doubt have it for years to come and will invariably repaint it later. So it’s a good trade-off.
Anyway, I’ve begun actively campaigning to trade the Vulcan in on a Harley, and the little missus has actively begun beating me. The funny part is that both of my kids have begun giving her a hard time, saying Daddy Zombie should get a Harley. I swear, upon their lives, I did not put them up to this… not that Mrs. Zombie believes that for a minute. For my part, I’ll keep pushing it, but I’m not sure if she’ll give in this time. I may have a better chance with the Katrina rescued dog… I’ll keep you posted.
On other fronts, I’ve applied for a new job here where I work. As I’ve mentioned, I’m a corporate trainer for a Fortune 50 company. Whereas I love training, my goal is to become an Instructional Designer. (Lots more money and a job where I’m actively writing, how could I go wrong?) In the last 2 weeks I’ve done 1 phone screen, 4 face to face interviews, and a final phone screen today with a manager from our Austin office. I’m holding my breath that I get this job. This is what I really want to do. I should know within a week whether I get it or not. I hope so because I would hate to think that I got all the way through the process and then didn’t make it because of some stupid reason. I’ll be calling on the Dark Pagan Gods and various other unnatural and unholy magics to influence the hiring manager, so keep me in your dark prayers, dear readers…
Besides, if I get the job, maybe Mrs. Zombie will let me get the Harley…
Later (8:22pm)
I saw this article and can only say… “NOOOOOOO!” I love Vanilla Coke and this just plain sucks. Thank god they still have Cherry Coke. (Or, Virgin Coke as my friends and I have called it since high school…) Now I'm stuck with the sickeningly sweet Vanilla Pepsi. Doctor Zombie is not happy. I expect I will be tracking down some Coke executives and turning them into mindless zombie minions.
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