December 18th, 2008

mano negra

(The other half of the battle is lasers. G.I. Joe!)

Blitz continues. Blitzkrieg. What is a krieg? A war, a war on xmas—that is what this is. Xmas is one big battlefield & these are the trenches. Punishing—gloaming of the evening always lingering on you. Wednesday was another work party—this one was thrown by our floor—& yes, that means I started drinking holiday cheer around four. Ho ho ho! It was in swing & I was enjoying myself, when the clock struck five thirty & everyone turned into pumpkins. I snuck away—probably always best to leave the party at a high note, right. Then I met Gerd! For coffee. Nothing says sober up like a black eye! Gerd was in town, but I hadn’t seen him, on account of I didn’t pay attention when he changed his number, so I’ve been pouring text messages into a void. We talked—he’s a doctor, right, but still hasn’t had to teach anyone! He just makes out with the actors from Battlestar Galactica all day & gives rats the bubonic plague all night. Or vice versa. Then home, but not to rest & relaxation! There was a clarion call—trumpets from the line—charge! Food & wine alone took some grade-A quartermastering. The sandwich with the little mozzarella balls! The wine with the blue Swiss Guard! Then I found a David & took him home with me. David & Maggie for television, as is the tradition. Lilly was testing. Others were not part of this years core guard. How I Met Your Mother is continuing to be a hell of a show. Pushing Daisies continues to be…cancelled? Somehow? Even though it is clearly head & shoulders above any possible competitor. & After that, & a bottle of wine each, Firefly, which was also somehow cancelled. Man, what the heck. Then some monkeyshines with Jenny, sleep, comics (Jeph Loeb is somehow still considered a writer—did you read that Buffy? That wasn’t even a story, it was like a Hostess Cupcakes ad) & now work. I am miserable, but hopefully will meet up with Pamela for Googlefood.
  • Current Music
    crown me king- rosenthal & guiliford are dead
sith lord cometh

Black Beetle Helmets.

Poll #1317478 deathstarved.

How is the Death Star laid out?

Like an onion (gravity in the middle)
Like a building (gravity at one of the poles)
Like two hemispheres (gravity along the middle plane)
  • Current Music
    crown me king- don't be too proud of this technological terror
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iron fist

My back is killing me.

The Suicide Collectors by David Oppegaard.

This is an uncanny little volume. First off-- a hardcover with a tiny trim size? & the genre is post-apocalyptic; doesn't that usually get you in the sci-fi bin? Naw, this one has a very mystery shelf cover design to it, & quotes from...Stan Lee & Mike Carey? What the heck is this book? I wonder if the post-apocalypse trope has become "literary" now? I had sort of been eyeballing it at work, & after hearing an editor pitch the next book by this author, I decided to give it a whirl. I'm glad I did. The "everyone commits suicide" idea isn't as groundbreaking as a lot of the copy seems to suggest, but it is put in here pretty nicely. There are rules to the universe-- rules, & he doesn't beat you in the face with them. Oppegaard lets you figure them out, & puts natural, flowing directions to the narrative to get you there. Things are bleak, but the protagonist, while not a super magical saint, has some steel in him. I liked it. A quick read, I got through it on a few train rides.
  • Current Music
    crown me king- jimminy spider
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