Dark Tales

As I’ve noted before, much of my life was spent reading about the myths that support nearly every belief, every fear, every hope known to mankind. It was Truth that I sought and it took me a long time to accept that everyone has their own internal parsing of the truth in order to make what they say and do acceptable to their conscience.

In deference to Billy and his fine notation on the destruction of Reality, allow me to note that I am not saying this divorce from reality, from humanity, is something to accept. Merely something to bear in mind as we are forced to deal with people edging their way to precipices of the soul. Because its coming. A juggernaut, really, just cresting the horizon – the distance is deceptive when judging its speed.

So I turn again to myths and tales and I suppose its more of an escape, now, than serious analysis. It cushions those truths…evil simply Is. It may come dressed as a maid or a wolf and you have to figure it out before one or the other has you for lunch. Question everything, believe little, and take care of what and who you love.

(Thanks to the Ghost…such exquisit linkage…)

Bonus gloom:
There is also this, a film that discusses, “LOVECRAFT: FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN is a chronicle of the life, work and mind that created these weird tales as told by many of today’s luminaries of dark fantasy including John Carpenter (The Thing), Guillermo Del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth), Neil Gaiman (Coraline), Stuart Gordon (Re-Animator), Caitlin Kiernan (“Daughter of Hounds”) and Peter Straub (“Ghost Story”).”

Royal’s Gone…

Well, I was just having the end of a really long day when I read the news about Boortz’s sidekick, Royal Marshall passing away from a heart attack. They were a daily listen for me on the way to work in ATL. It was a 90 min commute each way so I had a generous plenty of time to tune in.

I enjoyed their banter and the way Royal would always come on-mic when he felt something needed correcting or further detail.

But the thing I remember most was this bit – Boo Got Shot – and his melodious voice. For those of you who aren’t from the south a majority of the bit won’t be intelligible – hence, Royal’s translation. And yes, it truly is the way people speak there. No lie. Forget trying to order from the drive-in.

God bless him and his family…if you’ve a spare few bucks in these rough times I hope you’ll consider a small donation to his daughters’ fund. He really must have been needed upstairs because he was too good a man to be taken away from his family…

Damn shame…

Miles To Go

It feels as though some witch is stirring her cauldron faster and faster with us and the world gyring down to the bottom of that pitch-black potion. Someone has their hand on a wheel and their foot on the pedal, pressing hard.

Look at the case of TJIC who chose to use a common form of satire and with it, loses rather a lot. I’d only recently discovered his blog, now dark, and wonder that he remained in that state of intense discrimination. I never could, never would, live in a place that demanded so much of my earnings and trounced my rights as a kind of pimp slap to get back to work. He notes that he likes it there – and, indeed, it is a lovely place. But it would see the ass end of me in a hurry.

But…perhaps this is it – a kind of tea party, you see, except with casings and primers. They will have to give him back his weapons and his rights. They know it. But they hope to break his bank account first.

A similar incident is here. And then there is this. And I can assure you that those are not even the tip of the totalitarian iceberg. Regular men are fighting these amazing battles – David and Goliath-like – and we just keep on keepin’ on. All I can do is throw money at it and hope like hell it helps put out their fires.

Fires…earlier in the week the rabble gathered in an ancient barn in a pasture and managed to set the damned thing on fire. Thank God we’d had rain else the wind would have whipped that thing straight into the houses. The kids pounded on the door – “that ol’ house is on fahr!” Off duty, Trooper poked his head out, put down the gun that always answers the door with him and ran that way. I ran to get his portable radio and hiking boots, not knowing what footwear he’d had on at the time, and ran after him.

The locals not only didn’t get the name and information of the witnesses who sat in their car waiting, they also didn’t file any kind of report. Gee, guys…that disinterested, or did they need that barn burned? I truly don’t like to think they’re that incompetent but I am afraid that can be the only answer. For which I am trebly glad for the recent rains.

In that conflagration I could sense the coming Troubles. The kids jabbered excitedly, bellowing to each other as the parents stood and watched, a few nods and conversations held quietly. Neighbors who never speak were speaking. It could be a good thing, I thought.

Tonight he’s back out there, freezing his ass off and wearing the AlCan hat with pride. I forget, sometimes, in the daily crush just who he is. Who he was. He is not one to talk idly of it all. Nor does he wear it like a shroud, to be picked at daily. He did what had to be done. He lived and he came home. War used to be that way. But now it is full of interested parties whose income relies upon continued action. Once they started farming out portions of the work to private industry I knew it would never end, the need to pick battles.

There are some things that ought not to be profitable – the deaths of fine young men (and women) in battle is one of them.

Christ, this post has gone all lopsided. Blame the hour. Just a lot on my mind these days…do what you can to help the good fight. Sometimes that is all you can do.

“If you wish to do good, but don’t know how, find a good man and empower him to do good — not in your name, but in the name of doing good.”
~ Squarf

Hangin’ With The Boys

When one gets too inundated with manly pursuits, there is a need for more…frivolous things. Me and Josephine? Oh, we’ve not much in common except for our taste in finery and shoes. And the lazy calisthenic.

Enjoy, gents. (And any ladies who, like me, aren’t against the sight…)

Darling Julia

I spent rather a lot of my time watching the program “Baking With Julia” when it originally aired. I have always been a rather good pastry chef so it was just the thing to inspire me. I actually once made the puff pastry presented here. It was, of course, no small thing to my budget to put an entire pound of butter into a single recipe. However, it was a stunning result. The book is well-worthwhile, too. Not only pastry but all manner of international breads are within the book. The pita pockets were especially fun to make, as I recall. (Trooper has demanded fresh naan so I may have to give that a go soon…)

Here is the puff pastry video – charming, fun, and just the thing to get me to fetch a few pounds of butter the next time I’m at the store…

Watch the full episode. See more Julia Child.