Was Senselessly Eaten By Wolves...

'Tis 2:36 in the morning
and while I should be snoring,
I'm sitting here a pouring,
Something rather boring.

Ohhhhh, yeaaaaaaah!

Sorry. Was feeling a little ridiculous there for a moment. I swear. Nothing but silliness and BSG posts this week...

There Are Those Who Believe...

Yep, it does seem to be Battlestar week here on the ol' blog.

Yesterday, I posted a rather tongue in cheek synopsis of the third season finale of BSG, mostly to tease my good pal W but also because it's my blog and I'll be ridiculous if I want to. What follows next in today's BSG offering is commentary regarding the final episode of this season.

Consider this to be either your "SPOILER ALERT" if you have yet to see the episode or your opportunity to read another entry, which I should be posting shortly after this one if BSG simply does not interest you. Or you can go grab a roast beef sandwich, if you prefer!

But, if you are curious about BSG, I encourage you to stick around. It's not quite like what you'd expect out of a sci-fi series, trust me.

Still with me? Good! Let's begin...

Part I - The Original Series

Back in the 70's, there was a guy with a plan. His name was Glen Larson, who was really starting to come into his own as a show producer and creator.

He had this idea that humans didn't come from Earth. The human race actually was born on the distant world Kobol, which is practically on the other side of the galaxy from here.

Larson tied in a lot of religious themes into the series, borrowing elements from Greco-Roman-Egyptian mythology, the religious beliefs of Eastern cultures, a dash of Hebrew/Christian faith and also drawing from Mormonism, Larson's professed faith.

The story goes that the human race was cast out from Kobol, forced to colonize other worlds. There were 13 established tribes of humankind, twelve of which elected to colonize worlds located in close proximity to each other. The 13th tribe chose a different path, setting out across the galaxy to colonize the planet Earth.

Communication between the other colonies and Earth eventually broke down and as the millenia passed, Earth dropped from being a recognized distant outpost of mankind to achieving a mythical status of it's own.

The other twelve colonies flourished, establishing a loose confederation of sorts that promoted peace and cooperation between the different factions. Then one day, a horrible event took place.

They met the Cylons.

In Larson's original treatment, the Cylons were a reptilian species that had been overcome by their own creations, a series of artificially intelligent robots who soon found their masters to be a hinderance to their desire to rule absolutely. They set about expanding their empire, eventually coming into contact with the humans as well as other species.

A war eventually ensued between human and Cylon, leading to great losses between the two. A heady peace was proposed and when the humans thought that the end to the war was in sight, the Cylons launched a devastating all out sneak attack on the colonies while the colonial's main defense, a fleet of heavily armed warship/fighter craft carriers known as battlestars, were assembled away from the colonies at the location of the "peace conference" that was to take place.

Out of billions of people, only a handful of the human race survived. Just about every battlestar was destroyed, with the notable exception of the Galactica.

The Galactica was commanded by Adama, who was the leader of one of the 12 colonies, Caprica. He quickly came to the realization that the war had been lost and that the only hope for mankind was to flee the 12 colonies and search for the legendary 13th tribe on Earth.

After a brief stop at Caprica, the Galactica sets forth on its journey, picking up stray colonial ships and forming a fleet of ships crammed with survivors. Conditions are rough and there is little in the way of protection against the pursuing Cylon fleet apart from the single battlestar and her complement of Viper fighter spacecraft, piloted by the heroes of the series, Apollo & Starbuck as well as your usual "guy who died in this episode" type characters.

Sounds kind of cheery, no? Believe me, it hooked me like an albacore.

Gad, I can remember the first time I watched the original series. True, it was indeed a product of the 70's and had more continuity issues than I am normally comfortable with in a series but I found myself glued to it every time it was on the Sci Fi channel. Between BSG and Buck Rogers, I wouldn't miss it even if I'd seen the same episodes more than a few times.

Anyway, the show opened to good reviews. The major problem working against BSG?

It cost too damned much to make. Even by recycling special effects (which they did a LOT of), the budget was just a little too unwieldy for the network to stomach.

Larson was told off and was forced to go along with what the network wanted. Good stories, but cheaper. Wayyyy cheaper.

Which led to...

II. Galactica 1980

Voted as one of the worst series in sci-fi ever, Galactica 1980 supposedly takes place 30 years in the future, with the fleet reaching Earth.

The budget cuts were easy here. Recycle a lot of the special effects from the previous series, fire a majority of the original cast (so they don't ask for more money), bring in a new cast of people that you likely have never heard of before and place a majority of the story lines on the ground of 20th century Earth.

This suckfest was doomed from the start. I was surprised that Lorne Greene even agreed to be part of it, guess he needed the work or something. With a batch of bad storylines, unenjoyable characters and below par acting, 1980 was put to bed before the season reached the halfway point.

But, the fanbase of the first show remained and slowly gained more and more followers. Much like the Firefly "Browncoats," the BSG crowd plotted and schemed to bring their show back...

III. BSG, Re-imagined

Flash forward 23 years. After efforts were made into reviving the series, things were set in motion. The Sci-Fi channel agreed to a proposal from the current show's producers Ron Moore (who'd been highly involved with Star Trek: TNG and had been taking a Turn at trying to get Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series to TV) and David Eick to create a new Battlestar Miniseries.

It would contain a lot of the same concepts as the original show such as the Cylons, the destruction of the colonies, the search for Earth, but would also break new ground in the storyline.

Big differences abound. This time around, the Cylons were actually created by humans and then turned against their creators. Adding to the mix are the humanocylons, which are Cylons who look and act completely human.

The fleet is also searching for Earth, but you see a lot more into the lives of the survivors, their struggles and interactions than you did on the previous show.

The miniseries was actually a ripping success and Sci-Fi authorised a new BSG series, with the first 13 episodes airing a year later.

What grips me with the new series is that the writing is nothing short of spectacular, the acting is superb. The show focuses more on the drama aspect than the neat special effects, so it offers more to a wider audience.

I've loaned out my series DVD's to friends, co-workers and have managed to hook quite a few, including, yes, LADIES. There's really something for everyone in this show and I think that's why it's been as successful as it has been. Each season just gets more and more awesome, but I did have a little concern after watching the season finale, which leads me into deep SPOILER TERRITORY. I'd suggest watching the previous three seasons worth of episodes before braving the next section.

You are duly warned! ;)

IV. Season 3 Finale

First of all... What the hell? The Col., The Chief, The Pyramid Freedom Fighter & The President's Chief of Staff are four of the final five?

Apart from Tyrol, I had no clue. That's messed up, especially Tigh, given his history. It pisses me off that I have to wait almost a year to find out what happens next. Damnit, damnit.

A final note. Is it just me or is anyone else hoping that they don't reach Earth until they decide to end the series?

Seriously. If the Galactica was to arrive here right now, would the show not suck? Think about it. The 21st century is off to a bad start, folks, and if you don't believe me, you haven't been paying much attention.

What sort of help are we going to be to our long lost brothers and sisters from amongst the stars?

Ponder that for a few.

Finally, it's either Starbuck or some unknown who is the final unannounced Cylon. Definitely not Baltar because that'd be too easy and I think his role is more of the "prophet" than the "messiah." It'll be interesting to see what wacky adventures he gets into next season!

Spoiled Eggs...

As requested in a conversation I had with Wonko, I shall now spoil the season finale of Battlestar Galactica, therby ruining any possible surprises or potential enjoyment of discovery within.

After years of being on the run, the Colonials finally reach Earth. Sadly, however, the Earth's technology is well below the level enjoyed by the other 12 tribes of man, so it is up to the hardy men and women of the Galactica to bring them up to speed. Plans are discussed and schemes are schemed.

Unfortunately, our main two heroes, Captain Apollo and Starbuck, decide to break free from military life in order to open up a chain of fast food restraunt and coffee shops aptly called "Captain Starbuck's." This however leads to a major lawsuit with Starbucks Coffee, who decides to treat the two new residents of Earth to a lunch of trademark infringement and salad. Why salad, I have no idea.

Meanwhile, Adama, who has now grown a beard and is also sporting a self-styled hippie haircut, has secured the aid of his son's illegitimate son's friend, Troy in further bringing down the destruction of Colonial society by piping in old broadcasts about Paris Hilton and her wacky antics from Earth throughout the fleet.

Troy's bad-haired friend (and Captain Apollo's son) Boxey shows up to give the ladies something to stare at, although they are not staring in a good way. No, sadly, they just can't seem to get over how much Boxey looks like Dick Van Dyke.

The cylons finally show up and the hot ones (ie Number 6's & the Sharon models) go over to my house for beer and nachos, while the rest of the humanocylon models decide that this whole Earth business is just silly and they head off to fight the Romulans instead. Let's just hope they never realize that the Romulans are in a totally different show altogether and NO ONE make them any wiser, 'k?

So, yes, there's the 6's and Sharon's at my house. Oh, wait, the D'anna's can stay as well. And President Roslin can come over too if she wears that Dances With Wolves getup. Hooyeah..

Oh. Sorry.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, Romulans. Well after the rest of the cylons leave, the remaining colonists decide that Earth, with all our wars and wacky stuff, is also a silly place to be and that the whole journey was a big waste of time. They decide to colonize Mars instead and terraform it into a giant theme park and movie studio complex.

This doesn't go unnoticed by Disney, who had designs on Disneymars for years. They dispatch a crack team of WED lawyers and Roy Disney and they come to an agreement. The Colonials CAN have the licensing rights to the fry stalls and can sponsor the "Space Mountain" ride, but they cannot drink their ambrosia anywhere except within the confines of Mars 33, Disneymars' exclusive restaurant and bar.

Of course this doesn't sit well with Tigh, who will drink his booze any way he damned well pleases, so he leads a resisitance group against the occupying Mickey Mouse Stormtroopers which completely confuses this plot sixteen ways to Sunday.

And twice on Thursday.

Oh, and Baltar finally pays for his crimes against humanity by scrubbing every square inch of the New York City subway system clean with his tongue. And a pair of scissors.

And that, good friends, is the plot to the season finale of Battlestar Galactica. No need to thank me. :)

Now If They'd Only Post That Kickass Pegasus Fight Music...

Oh, yes.

Oh, very much yes.

Now if I can only whistle up a team and a script. Hmmmm...

Just Copy And Paste It, Like Adobe Photoshop, Red Foreman In Robocop.

There was a time when I would sit here and think about how often I can stare into the eyes of the mountain lion and make it go away. I'd stare at the cat and the cat would stare at me.

I always knew that I'd be cat chow, for what am I to it but a light snack before dinner?

If I could outrun the mountain lion, would it go hungry?

Get it straight and meditate like a Buddhist ... some drop science while I'm dropping English.

So sayeth the Lord. And on this day, he set forth to build a mighty cougar made of bread and wine. The cougar he named Chauncey and all was good. The Lord was most pleased and the harvest was plentiful.

When I was a lad, I served a term as an office boy to an attorney's firm. I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor, and I polished up the handle of the big front door. I polished up that handle so carefully that now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navy.

And on the fiftieth day of the cold Winter, he set forth a team of mighty hippopotomi to wreak havoc upon the citizens of the village. The cougar and the mountain lion stood watch.

Just want to be misunderstood, wanna be feared in my neighborhood. Just want to be a moody man, say things that no one will understand.

After the village was decimated, the cougar set forth with a mighty roar. The mountain lion sat, resting on its laurels.

Everything is meat, meat, meat. Careful what you put on your feet. Once it lived on an animule, now it walks along with you. It is food, everything is food.

Sing Through Me, Muse, A Song Of Fluff...

I received an interesting request via e-mail from someone I know the other day. Apparantly, the sender is assembling a potential collection involving pictures of dogs and the songs created for them by their owner. If successful, this will possibly turn into a book of some sort.

Quite honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to participate in the project or not. After all, my Katy's been gone for five months now. I personally do not currently own another dog to sing about, though I supposed I could craft a ballad or two about teh Kate and the other dogs I've been with through the years.

So, let's start at the top:

Katy I

She's my golden retriever
Yes, my golden retriever
And I love to see you every day.

Oh, my golden retriever,
Yes, my golden retriever
You eat my steak, you'll pay.

Katy II

Fluffy tail and big ol' feet
Loves the water and uncooked meat
Fetches objects, leaves fur on my car seat
With the Kate, my day's totally complete.

Oh, yeah, she's my Katydid.
Oh, yeah, she's my Katydid.
And she'll make your Chiuahua into mince meat.

Heart of gold, fur colour matching
Soft ears, she is a scratching
Mischief is what this dog is hatching
My furniture now needs patching.

Oh, yeah, she's my Katydid.
Oh, yeah, she's my Katydid.
And she'll make your Terrier into milk's meat.

*drum solo*

Floating down the river of blue
Chasing squirrels to make a stew
Greatest dogs they might be few
Katy's one, but what else is new?

Oh, yeah, she's my Katydid.
Oh, yeah, she's my Katydid.
And she'll make your beagle into potted meat.

Lisa

Lisa is so frisky
So hyperactive and frisky

Frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky
Frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky.

Lisa chases shadows and reflections
I have a flashlight, will she make the connections.
She'll chase and bark and bark and chase
She's a nutty kid and that's my case.

Oh, Lisa is so frisky
So hyperactive and frisky

Frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky
Frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky.

Lisa is so frisky
So hyperactive and frisky

Frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky
Frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky, frisky.

Oh, yeah!

Heidi

Weiner dog, oh weiner dog.
You are so short and rotund.
Oh weiner dog, oh weiner dog,
You are so much like a hot dog.

---+---

Yep, truly classics, aren't they? At least be thankful that I wasn't including mp3's of my actual howling of these masterpieces...

You Can't Always Get What You Want...

Previously, on Mental Scar Craptacular...

The Who played in San Antonio last night.

The Styx & Foreigner played last night at the same venue in Austin.

Pete Townshend and his girlfriend were hanging around SXSW in Austin last weekend. Just out in public, waltzing around.

And I missed all of it. The levels of pissed that I am feeling are indescribable.

I really need to start allowing myself to go to big events by myself. If I can go to a movie by myself, surely I can go to a concert by myself.

Otherwise, I sit here on my arse feeling sorry for myself because I couldn't find a single soul to go with me to anything last night. Somehow, watching The Sopranos on HBO: On Demand for the tenth time just doesn't seem to match up to the same level of "teh awesome" that I seek.

Have today off from work and since I have nothing really interesting to report and nothing else better to do, I'm going to see if Tony recovers from his coma.

Again.

For the 10th time.

/Whine
//and cheese
///Violins?
////Slashie!

This Is The Water, The Emerald Of Our Land...

Saint Patrick was a gentleman,

Who through strategy and stealth,

Drove all the snakes from Ireland,

Here’s a toasting to his health.

But not too many toastings

Lest you lose yourself and then

Forget the good Saint Patrick

And see all those snakes again.

-Traditional St. Patrick's toast

A whole lot of this...

Plus a little bit of this...

Equals a whole lot of foolish behaviour...

Spent Saturday celebrating the Irish part of my heritage...

Spent Sunday in recovery. Happy St. Pat's, now pass the
Advil...

A Response In C-Minor...

Read this post on Wonko's Corner before you read the rest of this post.

Back now? Good. Anyway, here's my reply. It was a little lengthy to post on his comments section, but keep reading. Things get out of hand, I promise...

1) $1,000 Pizza.

As a former pizza transportation and customer service professional, I'd like to say that not only will I happily provide this delightful item but as an added bonus if you act now, I will also include ONE FREE swift kick to your beanbag that you can keep as my special gift to you.

Call in the next ten minutes and I'll also include free steel toe bootage to the face, that's right, absolutely FREE!

$1,000 pizza. Jesus.

2) The Donald Vs. The O'Donnell.

Donald Trump and Rosie O'Donnell are both class AAAAA attention whores. The arrogant attitudes of both really grate on my nerves.

How 'bout we hold an eating contest to see how many $1,000 pizzas they can eat in an hour?

Think about it! We can award a kick to the beanbag of the winner! We can then also award a kick to the beanbag of the loser!

Think about the publicity! It'll be stellar, man.

Seriously, they both need to shut up and get back to work.

3) Heather Mills.

It is the idea that someone thought her important enough to extend an invitation.

Seriously?

I was thinking that it was a miracle that they hadn't asked Wink Martindale & Tonya Harding to be on the show. It'd be awesome.

They'd start dancing, Wink and his partner would win a round, setting Tonya off into a full on bloodrage. Tonya punches Wink in the beanbag, and quickly grabs Heather's fake leg and breaks Heather's other leg with it.

A tussle ensues and Wink, after taking a few recovering breaths, pulls out some tricks of his own by casting the Game Show Host Hair Of The Infinite spell, which knocks Tonya out like a sucker on Celebrity Boxing.

Seeing her opportunity to knock out another competitor, Heather casts Ex-Beatle Wife of Unlimited Income, temporarily incapacitating Wink with a mighty law suit.

Wink somehow manages to recover by some fancy legal footwork and cuts off Heather's next attack by casting X Blocks The Square, shielding him and also shooting hot piles of pork products back at her in the process.

Unfortunately for Heather, she didn't throw a good enough defense roll so she drowns underneath a pile of bacon bits and porkchops.

As Wink surveys Heather's gruesome, yet tasty, demise, Tonya regains consciousness and pounces on Wink, shouting about how "it was unfair, my shoelace broke" and "gimmie another chance, judges!"

They struggle on the ground for a few moments before Ian Zierling, who had been sitting on the sidelines wishing that Aaron Spelling was still around to give him a job, joins the fracas.

Ian reaches within his fancy coat and pulls out his "Steve Sanders Sword of Slicing" and quickly seperates Tonya's head from her torso, George Lucas style. He helps the weakened Wink to his feet and they both stand and observe the carnage.

Wink turns to Ian. "Thanks, kid, you saved my life!"

Ian dusts himself off and cocks one of his famous toothy grins. "No problem, Mr. Martindale, I was happy to help!"

"I bet you are, kid," Wink chuckles as he suddenly thrusts his hand right through Ian's chest and rips out his heart, "I bet you are."

Ian looks at his own heart in shock for a second before falling over dead. With all the other competitors dead, Wink was now assured of being the grand prize winner.

"After all," Wink chuckled wickedly as he watched Ian's heart slow to a stop, "there can be only one..."

---+---

Oh, wait, sorry, what? You mean Dancing With The Stars is about DANCING?!?

*sigh*

Oh Where Are You Now...

Moo goes the cow
Quack goes the duck
The cat says meow
While the chicken runs amuck.

-Me

Well, depending on the person you could ask, yesterday was either:

1) March 14, 2007
2) Albert Einstein's birthday
3) Pi Day.
4) Steak & BJ Day. (And NO, I'm not going to explain this NSFW concept to you. Reach your own conclusions, gorram it...)
5) A combination of 1 & 2
6) A different combination of 1, 2, 3 & 4
7) All of the above
8) Time to pay the utility bill.

Kind of interesting how three "milestone holidays" seem to converge like this. It's almost as if Albert Einstein was celebrating his birthday by contemplating pi while eating a steak and getting a...

Never mind.

Well, whatever 3/14 means to you, I hope it was a good one.

I've Got Blisters On My Fingers...

If there is anything more frustrating in this computering world than to try to get two PC's to talk to one another for easy data transfers and sharing, I'd be impressed.

That is all.

You're Buying A WHAT?!?!

Well, if all goes according to plan, I may be the proud owner of a new computer.

A brand new... wait for it... PC.

I think it goes without saying that I felt like a complete and total whore walking up and down the PC aisles at Fry's, completely avoiding the lovlier Mac aisle that I so know by heart. I'd been scheming and drooling over a new Mac for years. For years, I tried to tie the ends together, save the dough and pick out one of those gunmetal gray sexy towers of might.

Each time, sadly, my dreams would be smashed to the wall faster than an empty can of tuna at a cat convention. I'd need new tires, I'd need to go to the vet, I'd need to buy clothes, I'd need to pay bills, I'd need to go to the doctor, etc.

I just could never get enough scratch together to buy myself a new Mac, no matter how much I tried.

You see, I'm in the middle of jumpstarting my life. I want to go further, faster, better. I want to work on my own art, my own films, my own website in the comfort of home and hopefully start to profit from it. As much as I love my old Mac, it's seven years old now and can no longer handle the new and keen things that I want to do with it.

I can buy a PC for half the price and while that may not be the best choice for what I eventually hope to accomplish, it'll at least hopefully start making me more money. Money that I can then eventually turn around and buy a new Mac with.

PC's are just alright in my book. But a Mac? Creative worker's paradise.

Besides, the ol' Mac isn't going anywhere just yet. There are still tasks that it can peform better than any PC ever could, even if it is seven years old and severely showing its age. Maybe, just maybe mind you, I can have the two working in harmony with each other.

After all, if these guys can get back together, anything is possible...

Moral Centralia...

*Annoyingly Boldfaced Warning*

The following post contains excessively vulgar language and concepts that are not for the faint of heart or the easily offended. Read further at your own risk.

GAS PRICES!!!

Hey, don't say I didn't warn you.

If you are still with me, then I compliment you on having a strong constitution thus far. But wait, gentle readers, I'm just getting started...

I'm willing to bet that the oil industry is quite likely having quite a large boner over the upcoming summer price hikes. Yes, I said "BONER."

In fact, we're not just talking about any kind of boner, no sirree. We're talking about the King of Boners. The combined height of the mega tower that would result if we took both of the Patronus Towers, converted them to oil derricks and stood one on top of another. And then take that tower and keep building it with the "tons of carbon" that Al Gore keeps talking about.

I bet the erection of such a tower could be witnessed from space. It would be mammoth. An oil derrick that reached as far into space as possible.

Might even poke the Moon's eye out, that's how big we're talking about.

I'm not totally against capitalism, far from it. But when I read in the news about "record-breaking profits" in the oil industry seemingly every quarter, it gives me a little pause.

We haven't built a refinery in this country for over 30 years. Our capacity for refining gasoline is dropping below the demand for it. New discoveries and production of oil is slowly on the decline.

And quite honestly, that's the way they like it. Basic law of supply and demand.

Why build a refinery when they can pull in more cash and not have to squander it on construction costs, meeting environmental standards, etc.?

Nope. Keep it restricted as much as possible. After all, if their end point customers are willing to pay, why back off?

Speaking about fattening their own pockets instead of really getting to work on the problems of an increasing worldwide population and the slowly dwindling supply of natural resources on this planet...

Oh, what, you saw what I did there?

Heh. Think about it for a sec.

Isn't the purpose of the Strategic National Reserve to help stabilize in times of supply disruptions? To help prevent sudden price hikes when disaster strikes?

Alright, let's think about that for a minute. When Hurricane Katrina (and Rita to a lesser extent) smacked the Gulf Coast, prices at the pump almost doubled over the course of the next couple of months. The damage across the Gulf was fairly substantial, but when the prices shot up so we were mostly assured that they would head back to normal after things calmed down.

Ok. Take a look for a moment at where the current SNR storage facilities are located.

From Wikipedia:

Bryan Mound - located near Freeport, Texas. Has a capacity of 226 million barrels (36,000,000 m³).
Big Hill - located near Winnie, Texas. Has a capacity of 160 million barrels (25,000,000 m³).
West Hackberry - located near Lake Charles, Louisiana. Has a capacity of 219 million barrels (35,000,000 m³).
Bayou Choctaw - located near Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Has a capacity of 72 million barrels (11,000,000 m³).

All locations are rather damned close to the Gulf. Winnie & Lake Charles located near Rita's path, Baton Rouge being west of Katrina's.

Since the Gulf is a major source of domestic oil as well as containing key ports, oil and gas refineries, it makes sense to keep the oil close at hand to the middle of the country so that it could be distributed where needed.

So, it's a 50/50 proposition. As long as the hurricanes stay away, there's no reason things won't be hunky dory again really soon in the next couple of years, right?

Wrong.

The situation is this. The President has ordered an increase of the SNR to over a BILLION barrels of stored oil, up from the current 727 million barrel capacity.

This means that the government will likely be drawing around 100,000 barrels off the market every day to meet this new storage target.

That means less oil on the daily market that could be converted into gas, folks. Supply and demand.

Other factors that tie into the price of oil:

* Trading in oil futures & speculation.
* Production end issues, supply, transportation to refineries.
* Political instability, diplomatic issues between nations, war.
* Price fixing by major oil producing countries and corporations.
* Lack of serious alternative energy implementation.
* Forgetting the lessons of the late 70's, where America drove huge, gas guzzling bastard machines and traded them in during the 80's for more fuel efficient vehicles, cars slowly again became larger and more gas wasteful. It gets to the point where you seriously do want to cock punch the guy in the H2 and kick his 10 MPG driving ass.
* God and his witty sense of humor.

We've heard so much talk about researching into alternative fuels, global climate change, our "carbon footprints." The sad irony is that it is more how the money in our bank account is affected rather than the effect that we are supposedly making on the environment with our tomfoolery that is even driving this discussion.

Flash back two decades and one year ago. The Chernobyl nuclear facility, thanks to the efficiency and grand progressive design of the plant courtesy of the USSR, had a little problem. One that essentially has resulted in the virtual shut down of surrounding miles and miles of territory. Territory that was now going to "glow in the dark" for a few centuries.

Back then, the prevailing view was that nuclear plants were the Devil. True, the impact of a potential nuclear disaster was quite daunting, but the more learned truth behind the situation was that nuclear power was, over the long term, more efficient and cost effective. As long as the facility didn't explode, we were in for cheaper power and a cleaner environment.

Well, a cleaner overall environment except for certain underground vaults located in the southwestern United States that will contain the severely radioactive waste products for hopefully thousands of undisturbed years.

Nuclear plants were built, but the nation still primarily relied on fossil fuels for power. Some effort was made into tapping into solar, wind and geothermal energy, but not enough to offset the increasing demands for more power.

So far, I've been pointing a lot of fingers in every direction. Truth is, I'm just as much a part of the problem as everyone else is.

I drive a small pickup, while it does get fairly reasonable gas milage, it doesn't get as much as my old Saturn did. I need the pickup for work purposes, so I can justify its usefulness.

The problem I face is that I work in a city that has a housing market that is on its way to rivaling Southern California's. The cost of living in this town is such that I literally cannot afford to live close to where I work based on my salary. I currently have a roommate, but even then I have a 14.2 mile commute to work every morning.

This is better than the 32 mile one way trip I used to have when I lived south of the city, but it still hits the wallet every time I stop at the gas station.

My chosen career path is one where there aren't too many places that I can go to for a job that is closer to home. So, I have to commute.

Public transportation in this town is a fucking joke. To get to work by taking the bus, I'd literally be sitting on a series of buses for around two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening. I cannot bike to work since I live that far away and there isn't anyone to rideshare with.

My point is with this that I still make the choice to go to work every day. I love what I do, but if I had to, sure I could find something else that is closer.

Meanwhile, I'm sucking down 28 gallons of gas a week going to work, running errands, meeting up with friends who live across town and what not. I'm just as much to blame as anyone else.

If we're going to get serious about finding ways to get off oil, then we should stop bitching about it and fucking do it already. The prices are only going to go up, especially once we hit global Peak oil. There is a finite amount of resources on this planet, kids, and that is a fact.

It's only a matter of time.

Birthday Goodness Post...

Now, this is sweet. --------}
I want to thank my good pal Trystera for this photoshopped happy fun time picture meshing our characters with those of Homestar Runner's! How cool is that?

VERY! And don't ye be forgetting it, lads & lasses. :)

I'd like to also thank W, BA & everyone for their happy fun time greetings! It was a lovely day to roll another digit on the odometer and I thank YOU for making it just that much more spiffy!

A Moment Of Pen...

On Friday, my co-workers planned to surprise me with a cake marking the passage of my hatching.

It was kind of them to think of me. After all, I had not mentioned to them as to why I was taking Thursday off instead of my customary Wednesday. I just decided that I was doing it and no explanation was necessary according to the Boss.

After all, the only person truly inconvenienced by my absence would be myself. If that, actually. Working three days in a row instead of just two meant that I was able to clear the week's work out a day earlier.

So, that meant that cake would be Friday. I may have kept my mouth shut, but the annual reminders on everyone's Outlook calendar regarding employee birthdays rarely lie.

Anyway, on this bright, sunny day, the Boss went to the local Randall's to purchase said birthday cake. It was to be a delicious lemon-flavoured cake with "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROBERT!" inscribed in creamy, frosted letters.

Everything was just brilliant with this covert operation until she tripped on the way through the parking lot.

She fell forward, hitting some sharp metal debris in the lot before finally rolling to a not so gentle landing directly onto the cake.

Severely lacerating her spleen in the process.

I think it goes without saying that someone got a sackful of flowers from an anonymous donor today...

Got The Car, Petrol's Cheap...

The Boss actually had the gall to ask me if I'd like to pull extra
hours this week and come in tomorrow.

Hell, no.

Someone asked if I'd be interested in shooting a video tomorrow.

Hell, no.

Someone asked if I could fix their computer tomorrow.

Hell, no.

Someone had the gall to ask if I'd like to do all their crap favors
for them tomorrow.

Oh, HELL, no.

Then, someone asked if I wanted to piss away the entire day doing
whatever I wanted.

You're gorram right I do. It's MY GORRAM birthday today! Happy birthday, me!

<i>Here's $20 to piss away on hookers and blow, I mean, uh, to invest
wisely for a safe and secure future!</i>

Gee, thanks, me! How generous of you!

<i>Now, get your drunk ass to bed. Decent people are trying to sleep!</i>

10-4, good buddy! Woooooooooo!

----

And you wonder why I don't post things when I'm smashed...

Yes, 3/8 is indeed my birthday and I plan to squander it as best as I
can. I've always been a believer in making the most of one's
birthday. It is, after all, YOUR day to do with as you will.

That means...

Don't go to work. Unless you have a position that is vital to the
security of this country or something, take the day off.

You may feel responsible by going in, but you are missing a prime
opportunity to do WHATEVER you want. Seriously.

You can use this day to...

Run amuck.
Go shopping.
Watch what YOU want on your TV.
Eat WHATEVER and WHEREVER you want.
Run amuck again!
Behave like a complete and utter jackass!
EAT CAKE!
Whatever you want to do (well, within reason. Jail is scary.).

So, why the hell would you want to go to work instead?

Fuck that.

Take a day off and go play. It's YOUR day, kids. Why waste YOUR day
doing YOUR job?

Exactly. When I am ruler of my own company, I shall pass a decree
that birthdays are sacred and will provide and encourage the
opportunity for employees to take their day off. One paid "get out of
work" free card, so to speak.

It's really a brilliant idea when you think about it.

Ok, time to stop ranting under the influence of alcohol and time to go
watch some TV until I fall asleep! After all, more shenanigans await
tomorrow!

I Threw A Brick Through A Window...

I awoke in my dream to find myself laying next to her again.

The woman in my dream is not any particular "her," at least one that I
do not instantly recognize.

Then again, I was never one to split hairs in dreams. At least not
the long, soft ones now draped innocently across my chest.

I gently extracted myself from her grip and slithered out of the
sheets, careful not to disturb her sleep. The morning light filtered
through the window, gently illuminating her shape in the semi-darkness
of the room.

I felt myself smiling in my dream while other parts of my brain
queried as to why. I couldn't see the woman, nor did I have any idea
who she was. She was just "She," and yet I loved her without knowing
why.

I padded to the back door and gently slid it open, revealing the
backyard that seemed so familiar to me. I had never lived in this
house, just dreamed about it. Dreamed over and over about every detail.

At night, I could see the city lights stretching far into the
distance. During the day, I could see halfway to Catalina.

I walked outside and reached in my robe pocket for my pack of Camels.
I'd shifted to lights in recent years, but in my dream the full
strength smokes tasted like pure bliss.

I stood there, lit the cigarette in between my lips and waited. I
knew I wouldn't have to wait long. For as sure as the sun returned to
the sky this morning, so would the hot, blustery Santa Ana winds
return to these lands.

There was nothing for it but to stand there patiently and wait. I had
all the time in the world...

Test

Can't you see?

One World Is Enough For All Of Us...

In a few hours, Bill will be on his way back to Texas.

We'll be working on a final update upon his return (actually when he's had a chance to decompress a bit), but I cannot express how much fun this project has been. If you haven't seen his latest update, I'd recommend checking it out before reading onward.

Don't worry, I'll enjoy a Dr. Pepper and wait for ya...

*sip*

*burp*

*Sluuuurrrrpppp!*

*brraaaaaaaaaap!*

Oh, you heard that. Sorry. Note to self: Drink Dr. Pepper without typing the experience.

Noted and logged.

Alright, the point I'd like to make is about how Bill has changed just over this past month. He made a comment to me last night about how the whole experience has really opened his eyes to a larger world.

He had really dreaded the possibility of going to Korea in previous years. A lot of that is probably because he worried about being away from his family for that long, but I think a tiny chunk of it was that he was perhaps a bit "skeeered" about leaving his comfort zone.

We went drinking the weekend before he left and I had asked him about how he felt about the trip. He told me that he didn't really know what to expect. After all, the guy had rarely left Texas, let alone crossed International Waters.

A month ago, he mostly worried about how safe things were over there, if he'd be able to fit in and if he'd be able to get out and explore without getting into trouble accidentally.

He mentioned to me the other day about how he just had never imagined having the experiences that he's had this past month. While we joke a lot about Bill being a "dumb redneck," he's not the stereotypical version that pops in most people's minds of a guy sitting on his ass all day wearing a John Deere hat and slapping his wife on the ass to fetch him a beer.

Truth is, Bill has way more of an open mind than he gets credit for. He's the kind of guy who's not afraid to go to a Bob Marley concert even though he sticks out like a sore thumb with his Dallas Cowboys shirt and cop-like haircut. He's interested in exploring the world around him, even if he rarely gets the opportunity.

He was talking last night about how this trip was completely not what he expected. He picked up some of the Korean language and basically just talks to anyone he can. He's made a lot of friends during his stay, not only with co-workers at the Korean side of the company he works for but also with people in the community that he's had a chance to meet and spend time with. While he mentioned that he never thought he could go to a different country and come back with a lot of new friendships under his Dallas Cowboys hat, somehow I always knew he could. He's just this friendly kind of guy, ya know?

I was pretty amused with some of the other pictures he shared because he literally pulled a few people off the street to take pictures with. He told me that he was just surprised as to how much people were happy to be in the pictures. "It was just as much fun for them as it was for me," he says.

Quite a difference when (during the Bob Marley festival, actually) we attempted to get Americans to be in our pictures. Most would look at us like we asked them for a weasel sandwich on toast. Just not the case in Seoul!

Anyway, for what it's worth, I'm glad he had the chance. It really inspires me to get off my ass and go exploring the world a bit. Which also means that I need to save money like a mad hatter, but still, at least the idea doesn't seem so far fetched as it has before...

Zulu

Into the breach, a disaster strikes.
The reaction is swift, the feeling sublime.
As tension leads to the eventual taxing mental hikes.
We all knew the end was just a matter of time.

Hmm. Expected a better ending to the series than that.

That's just it, Voice. I'm done. I can't sit here and psychoanalyze myself into nirvana. I'm out of material for this series, plain and simple.

That's a cop out, don't you think? You're not done and you know it.

Alright, fine. I'm done to the point that I am comfortable with.

Why?

Because there are just some things that I'm not prepared to face just yet. It's one thing to sit here and pour my soul onto the Internet, it's quite another to open certain parts of my memories that I do not go to myself. Some things, I really just do not want to remember.

Would you say that you've made some progress?

I would like to think so. I've addressed several issues that I held back on for years. I suppose that I just have reached a point where I really just want to take a breath and contemplate all that I've learned. To work through the existing issues and making peace with them before moving on to deeper issues that quite frankly I'm not sure I'm ready for.

Alright, I can understand that. You do realize though that you're going to have to face those sooner or later, right?

Yeah. I just need to stretch my legs a bit first. I've worked through a lot of stuff these past few months but I'm ready to just relax a bit and perhaps write something that's a little more fun for a change.

And what about me, then?

Voice, I wouldn't ask you to leave unless you wanted to. Somehow, you've managed to keep me focused. You've challenged me to make some changes and while I need time to execute said changes, I'll still need your advice.

That's a lot of nonsense. You're doing just fine on your own. Not that I won't poke my head in to check on you from time to time, mind you. I still have work to do, after all.

You know, it's funny. Life.

Indeed. But life sure beats the alternative, wouldn't you agree?

Wholeheartedly. It gives me the urge to go fetch a burrito and spend my lunch break in the park staring off into the sky. Just to take it all in. Care to join me?

Why not? It's a fine day indeed to eat a burrito and stare off into the distance! Let's roll.

Alright, let me go clock out. Oh, and Voice?

Yeah?

Thanks. I first thought that talking to myself was a bad idea, but as it turns out, it was just lovely.

Stop, you're making me mushy.

Yeah, alright, never mind. Let's go.

Seriously, I'm starting to tear up over here...

Shut your gorram mouth hole and let's go!

Don't forget. You're buying!

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

Yankee

How ya feeling?

Tactile-wise or emotional wise?

Both.

Strangely tired for a change. It's 10:00 at night and I'm actually tired for once.

Emotionally, I'm doing alright at the moment. Work has finally settled down, I posted another update to Bill's adventure, I made some kickass shrimp ravioli for dinner and it's the first of March.

Odd that you would be tired. You're usually up until 1 AM or later, aren't you?

Yeah, usually. I'm not accustomed to being fatigued at what would be considered a normal bedtime. I can't get my brain to shut up usually.

So, what would you like to talk about today?

Don't know. I am to the point now where I'd rather be lazy for today. Only reason I posted today was really just to tell the world that I'm still kickin'.

Well, that sounds like a boring entry.

Well, I don't remember asking you.

Can't you make something up then? At least give us something to show for the time we spent waiting...

Fine. You want something? Here goes...

Once upon a time, the end.

Oh, for fuck's sake! What has crawled up your ass and died today?

Robert cranky. Want sleep.

You're such a gorram baby, you know that?

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa waa waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAA!

You're absolutely useless, you know? Fine. You want to be Sally Sobsalot, be my effin' guest. Big baby. No wonder why it's been ages since you've been...

Whoa. Stop. Right there. I'm grouchy and whiny today, yes, but there's no need to get nasty about it.

I was going to say that it has been ages since you've been young enough to cry like a freaking child, but holy Jebus, what an admission!

Shut up.

I mean, damn, I had no idea it would be THAT easy to trick you into telling the WHOLE world about it...

Get lost, Voice, I'm in no mood to...

And just WAIT until you actually hit "post new entry!" Then the whole planet will KNOW your shame! Hahahahahaha!

Yeah, but it won't be as bad as me mentioning the fact to your boss that I caught you sleeping on the job as well as the discovery of the twelve pack of Mountain Dew and the ocelot that you put in his office.

...

Oh, yes, and dare I forget the fact that I caught you snogging his wife at the 7-11 last night?

You saw that? Wait, you saw nothing. I am invisible, after all.

Details, details. You know what? Screw this, I'm going to bed.

Fine. Get some sleep and perhaps you'll be in a better humour tomorrow.

Fine. G'night, Voice.

X-Ray

I survived.

Survived what?

Exactly.