Scream Season

October blew in and Chicago got chilly, wet and windy.  No surprise.  Crazy weather is a must for the season.

To celebrate, I watched the entire first season of MTV’s Scream.

I had forgotten the show was even a thing until I read a nonsensical rant decrying Fox’s new show Scream Queens and claiming it was a failed attempt to be Scream.  Scream Queens is nothing of the sort.

Scream Queens is smart and funny.  It’s supposed to be funny.  If this fact somehow zoomed past you, you probably say “I don’t get it” an awful lot.  I know damn well you don’t know what a dugong is.

Scream was…OK.  Nowhere near as clever as the first Scream movie, but it has moments.  For ten episodes, just moments isn’t enough for me.  That might be harsh.  I did keep watching.  I just never felt truly hooked.

The characters are likable enough.  Not likable enough that I don’t want them killed, but likable.  Not adorably sinful like Stu from the original Scream movie.  He was a hoot.  What we get is a reworking of Stu as played by the 2015 version of teen Matt Dillon, Tom Maden.

It’s not the actor’s fault. The whole cast of Scream does what they can with what they’ve got to work with.  It’s just uneven.  Is it serious? It certainly acts like it, despite the half-hearted jokes and gags.

Not likable like frat king Chad Radwell.  I want to be Chad Radwell’s bro.  He’s got it goin’ awn.

“I do love you. I’d just love you a lot more if other people loved you too.”

The two shows shouldn’t even be compared.  They are very different shows, even though both shows have a bunch of attractive, surprisingly intelligent, but nonetheless dimwitted, youths being stalked by a killer in a plastic mask.

Don’t let that fool you.  They are going for different vibes and, to a degree, each achieves its goal.

Both shows are full of teens from rich families who have seemingly zero supervision.  It is easier to brush that off in the farce, especially as it happens on a college campus.

Is it really so easy for a high school girl to buy enough booze for a house party from the local liquor store?  In a small town?  When her father is the mayor?  And there is a serial killer scare?  I guess so.  We had to do a lot of hard, sneaky business to get hold of a few Old Style cases and some skunk weed.  Times have changed, I suppose.

I’m not sure I would have stuck with Scream without the binge-watching factor.  This isn’t saying much.  I have a hard time keeping up with anything that airs once a week.  However, I will offer that I didn’t care who done it.  Not in the slightest.

The obvious choice obviously wasn’t the killer.  The other obvious choice obviously was and it was even more obvious that there was a pair at work.  The fact that the Scream movie had two killers put that possibility in your mind from the outset.  The events unfolding onscreen just proved the point.

Scream Queens is a big, fat joke.  A hilarious joke about mass murderers on a ridiculous farce of a college campus full of suitably clichéd college students, administration and the best damn security woman on the planet.

You can’t help but laugh at this crew.  If you don’t, it’s because you’re a humorless bastard and I don’t want to have tea and crumpets with you until you rectify that.

The FOX show pushes some envelopes.  I didn’t know you could get away with using “spit roasted” and “Eiffel towered” on normal television.  Those are terms that you’ll have to look up on your own because I’m too chaste to describe such salacious acts.  Either that or I just want you to spend time on Urban Dictionary because it’ll put hair on your chest.  I won’t even mention the use of “gash” or “blumpkin”.  Wait, did I just mention those?  Sorry.

Other than a horribly shoehorned appearance by Ariana Grande, the cast of Scream Queens is stellar.  That would almost be enough, but the use and timing of the music is perfect and it makes me laugh.  At least so far.

I’m sure I’ll give the next season of Scream a go.  I can’t wait for the next episode of Scream Queens.

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Happy SuperBloodMoon Apocalypse, people!

Someone will just have to describe it to Russia, since they’ll miss this one.  Otherwise they’ll have to watch a live stream of the big shebang.

That ancient guy Joel didn’t have much to say as far as bible shite goes, but what he did say was all apocalypse all the time.  Y’all know that’s the stuff I like best.

Joel 2:31 [from the King James joint]

The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and the terrible day of the LORD come.

That’s some heavy action.

I could discuss the great tetrad of lunar eclipses that happened in 1493, which I recall as being vaguely apocalyptic.  Suffice it to say that, while rare, these things happen.

Why are They so stuck on these predictable and understood astrological events? Why not Tuesday?  I will gladly pay you an apocalypse on Tuesday for a super blood moon eclipse today.

I assume they’re busy on Tuesday.  Nobody wants to miss the pilots of Grandfathered and The Grinder.  Not even the Supreme Alien.

I’m pretty sure the Great And Powerful meant it completely literally.  The cause of the moon being covered in blood will, of course, be a vile experiment gone wrong in the Nazi Moon Base.  Those jerks can’t hide that kind of disaster on the dark side forever.

Many Shuvs and Zuuls will know what it is to be roasted in the depths of the Slor on that day, I can tell you!

Why should we trust this Joel guy anyway?  I would just as soon ask Moon Bloodgood when the crap is gonna hit the fan.  She was there when the skies fell, after all.

If the apocalypse doesn’t happen, can I have your left-over moon cakes?

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Evidence of possible alien Atlantean ghost god entity captured on video

Or it’s a bear.

OK, it’s a freaking bear.

Can you douchey news outlets stop with the bullshit and the clickbait headlines?

Yeah, I didn’t think you could, but I thought it was my duty to ask.

The US Fish and Wildlife Service has this cool creek cam.  We get to see an unsuspecting salmon (are any salmon suspicious at all?) get grabbed by a great big bear claw (not the pastry, though that would be seriously spooky).

The idiotic headline “Mystery creature catches salmon: So what is it?” is followed with “Debate rages over the strange creature that pounces on this unsuspecting fish”.  This is absurd and disingenuous.

a lively discussion on Facebook ensued, consisting mainly of people attempting to identify the assailant with most guessing that it was a bear while others suggested a bird of prey or even Bigfoot.

It seems that the Fish and Wildlife Service believe the creature to be a bear as the footage is captioned ‘this video gives us paws!’.

Well, who are we to believe?  Facebook yahoos or The US Fish and Wildlife Service?

I guess I will just grin and bear it.  The video (originally posted to US Fish and Wildlife Service farcebook page) is still cool as a mountain stream…or an Icicle Creek.  The “mysterious creature” is quite clearly a bear paw.  Perhaps Sasquatch used a dead bear’s paw so as not to be seen on video.  They’re sneaky sneaky like that.

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The silver eel flies at dusk when the wine rains from moody barrels


I have no idea.

I get a ton of weird spam.  Yes, you are correct, all spam is weird to some degree.  Even the stuff that comes in a can.

My Mail thinks this is Junk.  My Mail is a miserable, humorless bastard.

You might not want to read this snippet of mail I received.  I’m pretty sure the words themselves are a virus.  If you read them, your mind will be tainted.

Fortunately, my mind was already tainted.  So I’m no worse for wear.

Brianna, please tell me what I’m supposed to do with the Black Drops.  I’m running out of Time.

Click image for larger version…if you dare.

Posted in Chaos and Creation, Conspiracy | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Sometimes they die, but always They Live

Another famous person died recently.  This still happens.  It’s almost as if they’re just like regular citizens.

In particular, Rowdy Roddy Piper went on to bouncier wrestling rings or flouncier kilts or wherever dead entertainment wrestling villains go when they leave this mortal coil.

I’ll admit that I watched wrestling when I was a very wee child cheering for the Von Erich brothers (that’s a dark tale we don’t need to get into).  Back when Friday Night Videos was still a thing.  That was like a thousand and one years ago.  We only had a few channels to choose from back in the dark ages.  You took what you could get.

A muscle-bound wrestler in a kilt, Cyndi Lauper videos and Eddie Murphy in a Gumby costume.  Come on feel the noise.

Unlike a lot of the people who make a living talking about sports and entertainment, I won’t pretend the man’s passing breaks me up.  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t wish ill on the guy.  I just didn’t know him.  Not personally.  We all go eventually.  Until they come up with something creepy to prevent it.

However, this does give me another opportunity to bring up They Live.  It’s one of those classically awful films up there with Troll 2.

Who would dream up a movie centered around trying to put sunglasses over Meg Foster’s eyes?  Pure insanity.

It’s not worth a damn, but it is worth a few good beers, some pizza and a few pals that know how to relish really shitty films.

He’s dead, but “They Live” will never pass into that good night.

You still don’t get it, do ya boy?

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He’s a monster, all right

I’m about to watch the season finale of Penny Dreadful.  I’ve enjoyed this season, for the most part.  For the most part being more than half of it, at the least.

I’ve even come to enjoy Dorian Gray, who I disdained during the first season.  He was less fop and more fiend this season.  I do so love a good fiend.

I still can’t stand John Clare, the creation of Dr. Frankenstein.  Or as the blind gal calls him, Mistah Clayahhhh.  She isn’t the only one tired of Mr. Clare’s crappy poetics.

Oh, how we get it Mr. Clare.  You poor monster.  Forever waffling between being a new god among men and being just another emo twat without anybody to love him.  Perhaps it isn’t your ugly mug, Mr. Clare.  Just perhaps it’s because you are truly dreadful company.  Not even worth the penny, I would say.

I didn’t think his bride would be worse.  She is.  Brona Croft.  A fittingly shitty name for a shitty, undead hooker.  Mr. Clare can have her.  I hope they elope.  Soon.

Of course, that won’t happen.  The gloomy Mr. Clare couldn’t accept such happiness.  I don’t think he was built for it.  Even the undead hooker seems sketchy on him.  Can’t blame her, though they were made for each other.  Two pissants in a pot, if you ask me.

The fast on the draw American wolf.  The gloriously wicked Madame Kali and her naked, bald witches.  Dr. Frankenstein, as long as he’s high as shit.  Miss Ives and Sir Malcolm, stiff upper lift – stiffer jab.  Especially Sembene, the enigmatic, former slave-trading African.  Even Ferdinand Lyle, the great, gay, hilariously lispy oopma loompa of the story.  These are the characters for me.

I’m sure it will all work out.  Won’t it, mum?

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It’s a space station

There is something magickal about a mid-day moon hung in a clear, blue sky.

It feels like being in a sci-fi movie.  Not a Syfy movie, where an ill-mannered mad scientist unleashes a dragonfly-shark hybrid in the park and everyone gets mauled.  A sci-fi movie on some other planet that looks quite a bit like ours, but where moons are always in the sky.  Usually more than one.  A movie where an ill-mannered mad scientist is planning to blow up one of those moons because its ethereal beauty offends her.  And because she can.  She just built the coolest anti-moon weapon and has been dying to try it out anyway.

Maybe that should be my July Camp Nanowrimo plot.  I can’t decide on anything else.

We should probably stop her before all hell breaks loose.  Or we could just sit in the grass and admire the nice day before it rains again.  Because the actual movie I’m in involves flooding and tornadoes and wicked lightning that don’t need no man.

Ain’t she purdy?

Maybe it’s just a hologram!


Hang onto your cell phones, things are going to get bumpy.

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Seven years for Seveneves

I have enjoyed some Neal Stephenson novels in my time.  Cryptonomicon and Quicksilver, if we’re going to name names.

His new novel Seveneves is ready for ingestion.

However, the book’s informational blurb came with the line “a grand story of annihilation and survival spanning five thousand years.”  I wasn’t sure I was ready for such an undertaking.  That’s a lot of annihilation and survival.

Some of the positive reviews mention the length is not a detriment to reader enjoyment.  I bet that’s true, assuming you are enjoying what Stephenson is putting down.

Neal Stephenson doing a book signing at the Na...

Neal Stephenson doing a book signing at the National Book Festival (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Maybe I’ve been ruined by reading so many shitty books lately.  My literary diet has atrophied my brain and made me an unhappy reader who mutters to himself about bad sentence structure and poorly drawn characters.  Perhaps something like Seveneves could save me.  A shock to my system with enough force and weight behind it to remind me what the good stuff can be like.  Do I have a spare seven years with which to spend reading this monstrosity?  Probably.

On the other hand, maybe I don’t need to while the summer away on 5,000 years of apocalyptic future.  I am burned out on the apocalypse and have been refusing to partake in apocalyptic anything lately.  Of course, Stephenson’s version isn’t likely to be like all the rest of the apocalyptic pablum.  It will be well-thought-out and immersive.  But that doesn’t mean it will be fun.

I’m undecided.  I need someone I trust to dash through it and let me know what it’s really like.  Is it well-paced or will it put me to sleep?

I could probably use more sleep.  Having someone hit me with the Seveneves hardcover might accomplish that in short order.

I wonder how long the audio book is…



Posted in Film, Literature and Entertainment | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Things go up, things come down

No, I’m not talking about dropping acid or that empty post-rave ennui you’ve got going on.

There will be a LightSail test launch today over in Florida.  Live coverage starts at 9:45AM Central.

Nobody is going to be sailing on sunlight today, but it’s a first step and that’s encouraging.

Read about The Planetary Society and go watch live.

English: Artist rendering of SpaceX Dragon spa...

English: Artist rendering of SpaceX Dragon spacecraft delivering cargo to the International Space Station. Credit NASA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Tomorrow, the SpaceX Dragon cargo ship is leaving the ISS.  You should get up early, have some uppers and watch that too.  The ship launched April 14 and is the only space station resupply ship able to return to Earth intact.  Reuse, Recycle, Return to Earth!

Watch it on NASA TV.  Coverage starts at 5:45AM Central tomorrow, but it will take a while.

This is cool shit, you jaded twits!  You probably didn’t think last night’s three overtime Blackhawks game was exciting either.  Shame shame shame.

In other news about things coming down to Earth, we have the Australian ballooning spiders I discussed in my last post.  A guy named Keith Basterfield wants samples of the webbing, sometimes referred to as Angel Hair.  He’s apparently been at this since 2001.  Probably not to use with a good pesto sauce.  Although, given Basterfield’s writings about UFOs, who knows.  I suggest you keep your Angel Hair to yourself and let Keith collect his own.

I know spiders are mysterious, have a world domination agenda, and their webbing is amazing stuff, but it is not “a mysterious substance created by the interaction of a UFO or its electromagnetic field with Earth’s atmosphere.”

Everyone seems to agree that this time it’s the Spider Legions.  Probably because it was a big enough event to draw the attention of experts.

Look to the skies, people.  But remember to keep your mouth closed!

Posted in Chaos and Creation, Science | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Spiders, spiders everywhere. Spiders, spiders in your hair!

I have a long-running war with spiders.  There have been a number of incidents.  Led by my nemeses, the yellow sac spiders.

It is obvious that they have it in for me.  I reciprocate, with the exception of one brief pause in hostilities.

When I first moved into my house, I discovered a spider under the bottom step of the basement stairs.  It was a typical Broad-faced Sac Spider.  Black or dark brown, with a phat ass and no markings that indicated any death-dealing gang affiliations.

Like any amateur naturalist, I let it live.  I even set up a camera to see what it was up to while I wasn’t around.  I named her George.  I did not hug and squeeze her.  We hadn’t gotten that close yet.

We never would.

You see, one day I discovered that George had made four egg sacs.  Not just one, four.  George did not understand what being a good houseguest meant.  George and George’s progeny were dealt with harshly.  With fire and harsh language.

I am no longer so easy-going with the eight-legged freaks.  Other than the funnel web spiders.  They stay encamped in the basement windows and don’t bother me.  Plus, I find the whole funnel web thing nifty.  I respect their moxie.  Just twang the outside of that funnel and see what happens.

I don’t see an end to this war of ours.  Unless they call in paratrooper support.

As they did in Goulburn, New South Wales, Australia.

Spiders net in forrest

Spiders net in forrest (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I know about webs in the beard.  Nothing screws up a morning run like plowing face first into a five foot diameter web built between trees.

Shake, shake, shake it off.  And shudder.  And whirl around like a dervish.  Then lay down and cry because you will never convince yourself that bad girl isn’t on you still.  Waiting to strike.

Or lay eggs in your beard.

Ballooning baby spiders sounded so much cooler in Charlotte’s Web.

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