It’s Friday, again, and it’s the 13th

This happens all the time.  We’re lucky it does.  It gives everyone a reason to think about all the silly things people think about when a Friday occurs on the thirteenth day of a month.

It’s special, but not that special.  It’ll happen again in October of this year.  A brand new Friday the 13th movie is supposed to be out then, which isn’t that special either.  We’ll be lucky if it’s good, but I’ll watch it either way.

If you look around today, you’ll see tons of articles posing the question “Is Friday the 13th really unlucky?” as if luck in itself, or lack thereof, is a legitimate concept to begin with.

There isn’t even consensus about why the day itself should be considered unlucky.

Maybe it was because that woman, Eve, who was crafted from a rib bone, tried to get smart on a Friday the 13th.  Obviously, knowledge is unlucky.  Women with knowledge is apparently unlucky enough to spawn all sorts of bad juju.

Maybe the Big Flood began on a Friday the 13th.  Maybe the Tower of Babel broke ground on a Friday the 13th.  There were 13 folks at Jesus’ first last earthly supper.  Judas’ seating place card had “Judas, 13th Guest” inscribed on it in fancy lettering.

It also could have been the Templars.  We saw all the unlucky shit that befell Tom Hanks.  The Templars have a toe in all waters.  Everyone says so.

Or it’s because numbers have power and thirteen wields its power most unpleasantly.  Twelve is complete – 12 hours on the clock, 12 months of the year, 12 gods of Olympus.  Thirteen is thus guilty of being uppity.  Or more than complete, which is impossible and so the world descends into chaos.  Of course, who of us turns down a baker’s dozen of bear claws or croissants?  More is better, unless it isn’t.

Chaucer called Friday unlucky, but maybe he just meant not getting lucky…wink, wink, nudge, nudge.  “And on a Friday fell all this mischance,” just doesn’t sound that damning. Adding in the later passage doesn’t make it any more spooky.  The death of a royal is no reason to damn anything,

“Who, when your great King Richard was slain

By a bolt, lamented his death so sore,

Why have I not your wisdom and your lore,

To chide the day, a Friday, as did you?

– For he was slain upon a Friday too.”

Thomas W Lawson wrote about a character choosing a Friday the 13th to crash the stock market.  Later, a schooner named after him wrecked in 1907, on a Saturday the 14th around 2:30 am.  Of course, it was still Friday for Lawson back in Boston, so I guess we count that even though nothing unlucky actually happened to Lawson.  Maybe he couldn’t sleep.  Insomnia sucks.

Given all the tasks that are best avoided on a Friday the 13th (needlework, harvesting, launching a ship, beginning a journey, giving birth, getting married, recovering from illness, moving, starting a new job, and receiving news), I’m starting to think Friday the 13th drama was just an excuse to be idle.  Three-day weekends are the people’s balm, but we all know about idle hands.  No wonder it’s such a bad day.

Of course, the real proof of thirteen’s unlucky nature is that someone decided to have Glenn Danzig write a song for Johnny Cash.  Satan’s Child meets the Man in Black.

Salt your backs and lovingly stroke your rabbits’ feet, kids.  I’m going to watch the new Phantasm movie finally.  Maybe.

Who wore it better?

 

 

 

 

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The Last Winter before the longest night

I got up at quarter to four in the morning. This year’s Winter Solstice came due at 4:44 am, so I was outside to take it all in.

I didn’t specifically get up because of the solstice.  It’s just that I am one with nature.  Nature being the dog and the dog had to go out.  So we went and we ran and we were part of that weird pre-morning cityscape.  Between the worlds of a city night and day.

Outside, bathed in the ever-present glow of city light, it didn’t feel like the longest night of the year.  The solstice, that moment when the Northern Hemisphere is tilted the most from the sun (not distance from the sun), passed without any real break in the rhythm of the city.

The construction crew for the new storm drainage tunnel was already in action.  The physical therapy place at the hospital was open.  Traffic was yawning and rolling out of bed sluggishly, but with purpose.

The temperature was slightly above 30 degrees Fahrenheit with wind, but little to no wind chill factor.  It felt pretty good.  Less than a week ago it was below zero with negative 20 wind chills.  That is crisp air.  Your breath is stolen in gasps and you can see the cloaked ghost clouds swarming over the river.

Which brings me to the movie I watched last night, The Last Winter (2006).  I wanted to watch something wintry and bleak in honor of the solstice.

The movie was bleak, but mainly for its lack of substance.  A decent cast (Ron Perlman, James Le Gros, Connie Britton, Zach Gilford) and a not terrible story, if overly familiar, did nothing to save a horrible, lazy ending.

Watching the trailer is a more satisfying version of the story than the full movie.

Sure, the movie was clichéd, but I can excuse that.  Movies set in the arctic tend to behave the same way.  We meet the team, see who is going to clash in the close living quarters (family tension, romantic tension, corporate vs environment tension), notice a Native in the background who will serve next to no purpose other than to interject a bit of ancient wisdom in one scene, then team building.  After that we’re off to find danger, not subtly hinted at during the intro about the drilling of a test well that was capped without further explanation and never reopened…until now.  DUN DUN DUN

I don’t need the usual dangers spelled out.  I make a habit out of reading accounts of arctic exploration.  The one thing the movie did decently was visually exhibit the whiteness.  How the horizon is wiped away and the white snow is indistinguishable from the sky.  I’m sure it was also a cheap film technique, but I liked it.  This was the bleak and lonely factor I wanted.  It was only in evidence fleetingly.

The movie quickly (for my sake) barreled through the warming issues, the corporate greed element and hints of mental issues cropping up through the typical heavily scribbled out notebook and fractured dream sequences.  We get the idea of an isolation that will compound every problem, and every problem did occur.  The story was thorough in that at least.

A brief look at a phantom herd and we know things are going wrong.  As if we didn’t pick it up before from the crazy journal rantings and the appearance of ravens.  Because we all know there is some mystical shit behind ravens, not that the movie bothered to pick any particular mystical shit.  But ravens eating eyeballs, man.  Something is up!  Or they’re just hungry.

The movie doesn’t bother with explanations, overt or subtle.  We know the weather is wrong and the prolonged high temperatures are bad for the stability of the arctic environment the crew inhabits.  What we don’t know is how that translates into a herd of mammoth-sized ghosts with elk-like skull heads and grasping claws instead of hooves.

The movie couldn’t decide if environmental disasters were enough of a scare, but didn’t bother to introduce the ghost herd other than visually.  Nobody watching will care to ponder too deeply about the phantoms because it’s just not worth the effort.

I guess the oil was angry.  You know how oil gets.

Anyway, nearly everyone dies.  Everyone but the Lone Survivor, who wakes up alone in a hospital a la Walking Dead or 28 Days Later to discover that Alaska is 71 degrees Fahrenheit.  The horror of it all made a doctor hang himself.

I was just glad the movie was finally over.

The sounds the Lone Survivor heard were no different from my solstice morning.  Wind sounding like Nazgûl screams, buffeting trees and street signs.  The never-ending sound of sirens and far-off, indistinct yelling (in my case, waterfowl).

I saw the tracks of animals among the trees.  A cat drunkenly trotting down a slushy alley. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see spectral, antlered beasts pawing through the overflowing garbage bins.

Four AM wakeups make for a long day even if the sunlight is in short supply.  The night only gets shorter from here until the next solstice.  I don’t mind, but I’m not cheering for it.  I kind of like the darkness.

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A Trip to Mars

Mars is so hot lately.

Some billionaire detailed a fantasy-level plan to colonize Mars. The world rejoiced.

Our little buddies Opportunity and Curiosity are roaming around looking for microorganisms, water and secret Nazi bases.

The Schiaparelli probe is scheduled to land on Mars tomorrow morning.

The European Space Agency (ESA) is leading a new mission to Mars called ExoMars, and it’s about to attempt to land a probe on the Red Planet’s surface. The probe is called Schiaparelli for the Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli, one of the first to map Mars’ surface in the late 1800s. What would Giovanni have thought if he could have watched the probe detach successfully from its mothership on Sunday (October 16, 2016)? The probe and mothership are both now barreling toward Mars. The Schiaparelli probe will make a controlled landing on Wednesday (October 19).

Watch it live via the ESA website or the livestream channel.

Scheduled as follows:

19 October – landing and arriving at Mars
Live coverage of ExoMars Trace Gas Orbiter arrival and Schiaparelli landing on Mars will begin with our Facebook Live Social TV programme (also streamed on Livestream.com) 13:00–15:15 GMT / 15:00–17:15 CEST on 19 October.

The ESA TV programme will be broadcast on this page in two parts on 19 October:

15:44–16:59 GMT / 17:44–18:59 CEST
18:25–20:03 GMT / 20:25–22:03 CEST

20 October – status report and first images
A press conference is scheduled for 20 October at 08:00 GMT / 10:00 CEST, when a mission status update is expected, along with the first images from the Schiaparelli descent camera. This will also be streamed live via the player above.

All of this activity had me thinking about Mars related movies.  Frankly, there aren’t that many worth noting.  Particularly lately.

The Martian wasn’t a bad film.  I wasn’t as enamored with it as many folks seemed to be, but it was good.  Damon is a good actor.  That’s all I have to say about it, really.

Beyond that, we have gotten the likes of John Carter, Ghosts of Mars, Mars Needs Moms, Christmas on Mars, Red Planet, Mission to Mars and Doom.

You could claim something like Total Recall (the first one) as a good Mars film, but Mars wasn’t really a main character.  Nevertheless, Total Recall broke a twenty-two year gap with no Mars movies at all.

Movie Mars of the 1950s and early 1960s were true to the science fiction of the times.  Goofy, but fun to watch.  It! The Terror From Beyond Space is pure joy and supposedly one of the inspirations for the Alien screenplay.

Who wouldn’t want to have all the bodily fluids sucked from their body by that stud.  He’s like a Martian version of the Creature From the Black Lagoon and you know I love that guy.

If we look far enough back, we get to 1910 and a film produced by the Edison Manufacturing Company.  We might call this the first American science fiction movie.  I’m not a movie historian, but I like the sound of it, so I’m just going with that.

A Trip to Mars is a short film about a chemist (with a wicked cool articulated skeleton) who discovers powders that reverse gravity and accidentally ends up on Mars.  Mars turns out to be a crazy place with giant, semi-humanoid trees.  Possibly ice-breathing Martian clown trees.

Such opium dreams this Mars was conceived in!

The movie clearly drew some inspiration from H.G. Wells’ The First Men in the Moon and its gravity-negating cavorite.  You know what they say about Edison projects!  I didn’t say it, They said it.

Let’s hope the Schiaparelli probe avoids the Martian Wizard Clown Giants on its descent.  It’s only a matter of time before the Martians get tired of our unannounced drop-ins.  Ack ack ack!

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Equinox – the only equality happening today

The September equinox happened this morning.  Axis and orbit conspired to set things just right.  If only for a little while.

You probably already knew this if you happen to have an ancient stone observatory in your backyard.  Like folks do.

Enjoy this equality of day and night while it lasts.  The night will take over soon.

It might be a stark view, but winter is certainly coming.

Fomalhaut, the Solitary One, beams in the Southern sky during autumn.  It’s called the loneliest star, but it is home to the first exoplanet visible to the naked eye in photographs (announced in 2008)…maybe.  Maybe Fomalhaut b (groovy name, huh?) is just a gravitationally-bound collection of rubble.  Bring up the question at the next Astronomer’s Ice Cream Social you attend and watch the sprinkles fly.

There’s nothing wrong with being a gravitationally-bound collection of rubble aspiring to be all it can be.  Let Fomalhaut b be!

The Equinox should be celebrated primarily for being the name of the spectacular horror film Equinox.  If you don’t know it, you are missing out on one of cinema’s finest bits of crazy.  Allegedly one of the inspirations for The Evil Dead.  We are lucky to behold such wonders.

There are times when stop-motion effects and a bizarre story combine perfectly.  Equinox is something like that.  Fritz Lieber shows up briefly.  A dashing, young Frank Bonner (known to us all as WKRP’s own Herb Tarlek) makes a sharp sidekick for our hero.

Far out.

The oldest looking teenagers you’ve ever seen have a picnic by a creepy looking castle, which certainly must have its very own ancient stone observatory.

They toss fried chicken around and read an ancient book of magical stuff, kindly given to them by some old coot in a cave.

As you can imagine, things get weird.  Some fellow called Asmodeus wants his damn book back and he’s got a fancy looking magic ring shaped like a frog-squirrel and an army of freaky monsters to help him.

If he tries to kiss you, run.  Or throw rocks.  Maybe you can find a long stick.  What can I say, magical defenses are weird.

Aleister Crowley, Abdul Alhazred, Morgain le Fay, and Smaug had a four-way.  Asmodeus was the product of that unholy liaison.

In the words of our hero, “That’s a whole lifetime of nightmares.”

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Silence

The house is silent today.  As it was yesterday.

On Tuesday, dog lost her battle with cancer.

It’s been a long summer full of vet visits, pills, chemo treatments and very slow walks.  I loved every minute of it because the alternative is this silence.

Scout and I had a lifetime of adventures together.  She was a warrior to the very end.  I’m glad she’s at rest now.  Cancer is a real bitch.

Now I’m a bit lost.  Everything is the same, but it isn’t.  The world goes on, but I’m hovering in the schism of a brief moment on a Tuesday afternoon.

I told a friend Tuesday evening that I didn’t want another dog right now.  Too soon.  Maybe later.  Wednesday was so quiet and weird that I started thinking about it anyway.

Nobody can simply choose to replace a best friend, but perhaps some dog and I can rescue each other.

It was worth every second.  I’ll miss you, buddy.

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Asteroid Day is a thing and it’s today

Today is Asteroid Day.  It’s only the second annual Asteroid Day, so I don’t feel that bad having it sneak up on me like this.  I have set five reminders on three different calendar apps just to make sure I don’t miss the 4th of July.  Otherwise I end up assuming Chicago is being attacked by Green Bay and lock myself in the bunker until the rockets stop (usually only takes about four days until they run out of roman candles, jet screamers, black cats and Shoot the Moon tubes).

Asteroid Day is held on the anniversary of the largest asteroid impact in Earth’s recent history – an event that took place in Siberia on June 30, 1908, known as the Tunguska explosion. A small asteroid apparently exploded over Tunguska, Siberia. It released the equivalent of 100 tons of TNT, devastating an area of about 800 square miles, the size of a major metropolitan city.

The European Space Agency (ESA) is also an Asteroid Day partner. ESA asteroid specialists will be participating at events in Barcelona, Munich and Heidelberg. Ian Carnelli, project manager for ESA’s proposed Asteroid Impact Mission, spoke from the ESTEC technical centre at Noordwijk, the Netherlands:

Asteroid Day media partner, Discovery Science will dedicate the entire day on June 30 to asteroid programming.

Of course, we all know about Tunguska from Ghostbusters.  Don’t we?  Did none of you listen to Ray?  Gozer the Gozerian’s arrival was the biggest interdimensional cross rip since the Tunguska Blast of 1909!

Asteroid Day will be chock full of movies, concerts and knowledge whatsits (full schedule here).

Check out Twitter, if you’re into pound signs and texting into The Great Void.

I figured I would watch some crappy horror movie that is tangentially related.  It turns out all the movies featuring asteroids that have ever been made are, more or less, crappy.

Not the fun kind of crappy either.  Just crappy.  The newest being the worst of the bunch – Armageddon, Deep Impact, Asteroid, Meteor, Deadly Skies, Meteor Apocalypse, The Apocalypse.  You get the idea.

The old classics aren’t nearly as bad, but they are also not easy to come by.  Despite U-verse, Hulu, Netflix, and Amazon Prime, the only ones on tap right now seem to be Phantom Planet and Phantom from Space.  The Day the Sky Exploded is just not in the cards for today.  I’m not in the mood for phantoms of any sort or zombies for that matter, so Night of the Comet is off the menu as well.

What to do?

The Blob, 1958 version, obviously.  This movie always creeped me out as a kid.  The blob is just relentless and it manages to get a lot done without seeming to have any real skills or intelligence.  It just keeps growing and growing, eating everything that dares to touch it.

Kind of reminds me of the legion of Trump supports.  We should have never poked it with that stick.

Besides, it has Steve McQueen, who is the coolest of the cool.  Even when some asshole blob ruins his date with Aneta Corsaut.

In the end, they subdue the blob, but not by killing it.  They freeze it in the Arctic.  Can we take a hint from them with regards to Trump?  McQueen’s character responds to a comment that the blob has been stopped with the film’s final words, “Yeah, as long as the Arctic stays cold.”

Beware of the blob.  It creeps.

 

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It’s a Friday and it’s the 13th day of the month

It’s been a week.  Not the greatest one, but a week nonetheless.  I’m going to have a drink.

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Friday the 13th is happening.  You can’t stop it.  Why would you want to?  It’s still a Friday. If you end up taking a harpoon gun shot to the eye, at least you probably blew the evil weed and had relations beforehand.

In a giant twist, I’m not going to watch anything related to those happy camper movies.

I’m going to hoist a few while watching Dementia 13.

Written and directed by Francis Ford Coppola and produced by Roger Corman.  Coppola’s first legit directorial work by most accounts.  Legit being a subjective term.

If I had planned better, I would have gotten some Coppola wine.  A pinot noir.

As it is, I’ll have to suffer through some ridiculously good porter instead.  Tough breaks.

The plot follows a scheming young woman (Luana Anders) who, while visiting her husband’s family castle in Ireland, inadvertently causes his heart attack death. She attempts to have herself written into her rich mother-in-law’s will since her husband (Peter Read) has pre-deceased his mother (Eithne Dunne). Her plans are permanently interrupted by an axe-wielding lunatic who begins to stalk and murderously hack away at members of the family.

This could be a Friday the 13th movie if I squint real hard and focus on the ax-wielding lunatic part.

I’ll let you know how it turns out.  I’m sure it will be award-winning.  Coppola and Corman got in a spat while churning out a cheap skate Psycho ripoff and a second director came in after it was done to film additional scenes to finish it off.  That’s a recipe for greatness.

I’ve been assured of a miasma of madness.

I’m off to the domain of the damned, the dead and the demented!  As you do.

Posted in Universal Absurdity | 2 Comments

Meteor Wave

The Eta Aquarid meteor shower is happening.  I probably won’t see any of it.

Clouds and rain and a host of light pollution are working against me.

Every meteor shower in recent memory seems to have been obscured by clouds (don’t quote me on that, memory is fallible).

As a rational man, I am left to conclude that Cosmic Whoosh (I totally didn’t make that up just now) caused by the speeding meteors pushes the clouds down over the city, thickening them into a dense cloud cover.

The clouds ride the wave of the Meteoric Cosmic Whoosh right over me.  The meteors use this obfuscation to pass right by me.

I’m not saying that the meteors are avoiding me, but maybe they’re aliens.

If you look southeast before dawn in the next few days, maybe you’ll see some.  If you do, wink conspiratorially so they know you’re on to them.

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Flying Leap, take one and pass it on

Today is a day like any and every other day.  More or less.  It’s also a rare day, if that’s possible.

Of course it’s possible.  Anything is possible when you’re making shit up.

The calendar is made up.  It’s useful, but it’s not sacred.  The format follows the day/night cycle, more or less.  It’s inexact.  So we have these makeup days.

It’s like getting a tax refund.  They (you know about Them already, I’m sure) took your 1/4 of a day from you for three straight years and are now giving them back, without interest.  The Universe does not pay you interest.  It doesn’t care about you at all.

What were They doing with your extra day? You should probably wash it before you use it.

I get a bit of insomnia sometimes.  During those times, my “days” don’t fit in a 24-hour-per framework.  It makes me think about time.  During those days, I have extra time.  And, often, a lack of coherence.  There is no better time to think about time.

I’ve been on a time travel entertainment binge of late.  Not traveling in time for the purposes of entertainment – going back to bet on Buster Douglas knocking out Tyson, dodo hunting trips, or watching the live version of the Battle of Cannae from the safety of a hot air balloon (with popcorn and triple berry smoothies).

I’m talking about movies and television.

It started with Continuum.  I had watched a season and a half back when it first came on.  Mostly just to watch Rachel Nichols, but I got caught up in it.  Then I wandered away.  I decided to rectify that and binged it out to the end.

Then I watched a bunch of time travel movies.

What I learned is that I really don’t give a hoot about the mechanism of time travel or the idea of inconsistencies and paradoxes.  If I’m going to allow for time travel, I’m just not going to get all twitched up about that shit.  If the Universe will accept the movement of people from point to point in time, then the Universe has its ass covered for when we fuck shit up.  People are going to screw things up; that’s a given.

Every Grand Scale time travel story has contortions it goes through with these issues.  I am not interested.  I’m certainly not going to argue about your made up world mechanics.  “What is time?” is a big, rambling sort of question.

It’s the kind of question you can discuss until the bar closes, like “Would the ’98 Yankees beat the ’27 Yankees in a 7-game series?” or “How often do zombies defecate?” or “Who would be the first pick in your fantasy rock band draft? (dead rockers count)”*

I really only care about the small things.  The other stuff is the icing on the cake.  There can be too much icing.  Let’s not even talk about fondant.

We live in the moment.  The day in front of us.  This leap day is just a slice of life we gave a name and a slot in a greater grid.  A grid we made up to order the chaos.  In the end, the moment is what counts.  Not that the rest doesn’t, but it’s all made up of moments.  All those moments played out in front of us.

It took Continuum the entire arc of the show to figure out what you already know – you can never go home again.

Things change and that’s that.  You just have to move forward.  The stories focused on the small things resonate more for me.

There is a deeper point about me here, I’m sure.  It’s the same reason I wander away from TV series all the time.  I can do an hour, but if you are asking me to set time out for weekly updates, I’m gone.  Unless there’s real happenings happening.

You can do both; mini hour-long story arcs nestled among the overall season (with maddeningly long mid-season break added for your annoyance).

I don’t really care about The Big Bad.  I want to know what the toilet paper situation is in the apocalypse.  I want to know how many midterms Teen Wolf had to retake.  I need to know who pays for all the destruction every time Shit Goes Down.

I want to know how people get along without it all being a love quadrangle.  This stuff can be slid in on the sly, for those paying attention, but you can’t ignore it every day because the Giant Conspiracy of Awful is looming.  There’s no point to saving Everything if the Little Things die in the process.

Great stories manage this balance.

Time Bandits is a classic.  There’s a lot going on, but it has a solid emotional base and it’s funny.  FAQ About Time Travel manages to be funny about it all (but is still just a story about three pub doofuses and not truly a Save The World film, though it is that too).  Terminator has a huge amount of Timeline Related Angst, but is really just a chase and survival story.  Planet of the Apes has a lot going on, but the time travel is just a device behind the deeper stories.

The following Terminator films managed to get progressively shittier as the story went beyond the bubble of Sarah and her time traveling savior.  Movies like Interstellar and Looper don’t grab me.  The personal stuff seemed forced.  Perhaps I just didn’t see the trees.  Frequency managed to ruin an intimate story.  Just a plate full of icing.  Maybe they’re just time travel movies I don’t like and there’s no real thread there.

I like movies like Primer, Fetching Cody, Happy Accidents, Groundhog Day, Donnie Darko, Peggy Sue got Married, Repeaters.  Maybe even +1 (maybe, that film had issues, but it was a nice effort).  Not all great movies by any means, but they all have an organic feel.  These are movies where the small stuff is big stakes for the individuals.  The world isn’t getting saved; people are figuring out what time it is in their own lives.

The questions about time travel aren’t really “Can the Timeline survive me?”  The question is “What would I do?”  “How could I do it?” and “What should I do?”

Time Lapse is a movie about seeing one Polaroid photo from one day in the future.  It’s a simple premise, but the story potential is great.  If the movie itself ends with rather predictable results, I might suggest it’s because people are predictable.  Our motivations are basic, our goals are simple and we are often short-sighted.  Having a view of the future doesn’t change that.

In the end, the little things are what fuck everything up.  Not in a butterfly flapping its wings sort of way.  In the way that little things impact us every day in our small stories.  The Timeline survives regardless of our romping, but the dog needs to be fed today or it won’t have a tomorrow.

I think I confused myself after all that bullshit.  I’m going to watch one of the movies I haven’t seen.  Mr. Nobody or Predestination.  Assuming I have the time to spare.

*The ’98 Yankees win.  Zombies don’t defecate, the consumed matter bursts out wherever it finds a weak spot.  Jimi Hendrix.

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Some kind of GeddonMas

An asteroid will probably not hit Earth on Christmas Eve.

Or will it?  I’m just asking questions here!

The first full moon on Christmas since 1977.

The first Star Wars movie came out in 1977.  A new hope; a retitled IV.  You know who else became a IV?

Malcolm IV, King of Scotland.  He was a boy king.  Interested in knighthood and warfare, and deep into mystical faith type stuff.  Died in December of 1165.  A new hope, indeed.

Malcolm was nicknamed “the Maiden”.  I know I’ve called Luke Skywalker that a few times over the years.

A new Star Wars movie came out just in time for Christmas this year.  Spoiler – there was a light saber battle!  Malcolm would have loved it.

Coincidence?

Certainly, these events must have great meaning.

This ChristGeddonMas Holiday was, in fact, foretold in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the first words of which are “He who saw the Dark Side of the Moon.”  I’m pretty sure about that.  My copy is a bit smudged and the translation might be off, but you can trust that I wouldn’t lead you astray.

Then again, I might be making something out of nothing.  Maybe not.

Best to hunker down in the bunker until 2016.  If I’m wrong and the Empire doesn’t return to blow us all up, then it was probably a mathematical error and we will revisit this problem again next year.  Or at the end of the next 19-year lunar cycle.

Either way, always remember, Hans shot first.

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“It’s Christmas, Theo. It’s the time of miracles.”

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