Top Ten Favorite Comic Book Couples

Yeah, this should have pictures. Maybe I'll add some later. And, no, you're not suppose to care about my opinions on these things. And, finally, yes, I am clearly a DC fanboy.

1. Barry and Iris: "marital bliss"
2. Swampy and Abby: "unconventional relationship"
3. John and Zatanna: "still friends (of a sort) even after the break up"
4. Querl and Kara: "star-crossed (and time-crossed) love"
5. Bruce and Selina: "opposites attract"
6. Wally and Linda: "marital bliss (mostly), now with kids"
7. Hal and Carol: "on again, off again"
8. Dick and Kory: "young love"
9. Joker and Harley: "unrequited love is crazy" 
10. Clark and Lois: "the classic (comic book) love story"

Why Aquaman Rocks

1. He lives in the ocean (not just BY the ocean, but IN it. Screw "beachfront" how about "all in"?)
2. He is King of Atlantis (that's right, he's the sovereign ruler of a long lost mythical kingdom. What are you sovereign ruler of?)
3. He's stronger than you (unless you're one of a very select group of people, e.g., Superman, Aquaman can take you out in a fight. Probably without much effort).
4. He's tougher than you (able to withstand ocean depths that crush some submarines. Odds are you could break your leg tripping over your own feet).
5. That mental telepathy with fish thing (no, he doesn't talk with fish. Fish are stupid. They can't hold up a conversation. But he can influence them... with his brain. My brain just barely influences my own self, let alone anything not physically connected to it)
6. No secret identity (yeah, he's "really" Arthur Curry, but Arthur doesn't have some mundane day job and a cheap little apartment somewhere. He's always Aquaman, and the closest thing he has to a day job is King of Atlantis, see #2 above).
7. His costume (admit it, you couldn't pull off orange and green. Aquaman does, somehow. Dang, he's cool...)
8. He carries a trident (sure, a giant fork seems funny, until 300 pounds of solid Atlantean muscle has it pointed at your heart. Then, less funny... unless you're Joker-level crazy).
9. He loves his wife (whether it's the version where she's crazy, or an assassin sent to kill him, he loves her. Heck, in the Flashpoint timeline he was willing to destroy the surface world because Wonder Woman killed Mera.)
10. The Justice League accepts him (you can laugh all you want, but Batman and Superman picked him to be on their team, not you. If he's good enough for the likes of the World Finest to pal around with, who are you to judge him?)

Night Thoughts

Two cats on an old gray gate,
Purring softly while the hour's late;
Gazing down, the old, old Moon,
Listening to the cold wind's tune,
Wonders if those on Sleep's sweet slope
Still believe in the myth of Hope.

And there was evening and morning, another day-- until there just aren't anymore. 

A Cold Refusal

A DC Comics fan fiction. All characters owned by DC Comics. This tale is totally done without permission, etc. 

"Not interested," said the man in the blue and white parka. He picked up the half empty mug of beer on the counter in front of him and took another sip. In the relative silence of the mostly empty bar, the mug made a distinct thud when he placed it back down.

"Not interested? Come now, Captain. Surely you don't expect me to believe that you are not interested in making an easy million." The man in the green three piece suit smiled at his seated companion.

"Not interested in the job, Nigma."

"The job? The job is easy. Easiest heist ever." A pause. "Perhaps there are other factors underlying your absurd refusal."

Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold, took a quick, deep breath and silently counted to three before saying, "What the hell are you talking about? And if you're suggesting what I think you are..."

Edward Nigma raised his hands in a show of protest. "I'm not suggesting anything. I perfectly understand that you prefer to operate in Central City. It's a Nice Place. The police are Nice, your colleagues are Nice. Even your superheroes are Nice. Relative to some of the other members of the Capes and Cowls Club. It must be wonderful, not having to deal with a violent psychotic who is truly scarier than any of us so-called 'villains.' Tell Flash I said 'hi' next time you chat."

Snart turned towards Nigma. "You think I don't see what you're trying to do here, Riddler? You think if you suggest I'm afraid of Batman that I will sign on, just to prove something?" Snart shook his head. "Ain't happening."

"I never suggested that you were afraid of Batman. I just said that you have it 'nice' here in Central City. Of course, you'd have to be mad to not be afraid of Batman. He's decidedly... Not Nice."

"Look, Nigma, Bats is scary, but in the end it's about taking a beating, physically and, you know, psychologically. The psychological beating comes from losing, and we always seem to lose. Even if we do pull off a crime successfully, we keep pulling more until the hero beats us. If I was afraid of constant failure, I woulda given this life up a long time ago. And as far as physical pain goes, you ever been hit by a super-speed punch? You're a smart guy. Force equals mass times acceleration, and no one does acceleration like a speedster."

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

"And do what? Sell refrigerators at Sears? I started out as a thief. But when I met the Flash, I became something more. At first, he was just a nuisance, but eventually he became a symbol of everything that I would need to beat to live in the world that I wanted to live in. Same holds for the rest of the Rogues. I'm guessing that's not much different than you Arkham loonies and Batman."

He glanced at Edward, who offered only a quick nod as a response, so Snart continued. "If I'm going to commit a crime without the Flash's interference, it's going to be because one of us Rogues beat him. Not because I slipped off to Gotham to be a henchman for one of the Bat villains."

"So, 'no' is your final answer?"

Snart nodded. "Besides, ya got Fries in Gotham. Why not tap the local ice bad guy?"

After a moment's silence, Cold grinned. "Lemme guess. You did, and he turned you down?"

"Victor is not really a team player. He has his own agenda."

"Killer Frost? Icicle?"

Nigma sighed. "Yes and yes. I even looked up the current Chillblaine while I was here in Central City."

Snart shook his head. "It seems no one wants to play with you. Might be something to talk to your shrink about when Bats throws you back into Arkham." He turned back to his drink.

Edward Nigma started to step away.

"Hey, Nigma, I'm gonna assume that you came to me last because you knew I'd say no, and not because I was your last choice."

Edward suppressed a smile while turning back. "Of course, dear Captai--" Snart was still drinking his beer, but he had his cold gun aimed at Edward's head.

Snart finished his drink, pulled some money out of his parks's pocket and tossed it on the counter. Getting off the stool, he holstered his gun. "Good, 'cause I'd hate to have had to prove myself to you." Then he walked past Edward and crossed the floor to the front door where he exited without a single glance back.

"Well," said Edward to himself, "that could have gone better. Still, there's always plan B."

An Apology (Well, Not Really. Not Even Much of an Explanation)

So, yeah... nothing for months, and then a crappy song and two really weak poems. It's been one of those kinds of... what's the word for a period of time longer than a month but shorter than a year? "season"? It's been one of those kinds of seasons. Maybe? Regardless, I find myself desiring to drop bits and pieces of my nonsense once more into the waiting receptacle that is this blog, from which cybernetic plumbing it is flushed into the sewers of your minds. Telecrapathy, if you will, though I for one wouldn't, and really, why would you? But here we are with our predetermined roles to play, I write this drivel, and you read it, though, again, I really wouldn't (read it, that is. Although by now you're wishing I wouldn't write it, either). Alright, more tomorrow, or next week, or next season...

a haiku

body's chemistry
demons devouring my soul
damn serotonin

The Limerick of the Cowardly Golem

There once was a golem of wet clay,
who was skilled in all forms of melee.
But things weren't quite right,
when he got in a fight,
he would collapse and just roll away.

(Note: while Gumby is, arguably, a clay golem, this poem is not about him. He is brave, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for him. I'm thinking of something more like a D&D golem, only, you know, more cowardly.)

prozac puppet

i've got my act together
i'm as peachy as can be
since i've been on prozac
there's been nothing much to see

i have got a ready smile
and a quick and easy grin
too bad it's all a lie
there's just nothing left within

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

i used to cry through the night
when i couldn't sleep at all
now if it's after nine
i won't even hear your call

i never would have thought that
it could ever be like this
that being a real boy
is a thing that i could miss

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

bridge:
well i don't feel love
and i don't feel pain
all of my "feelings"
are just thoughts in my brain
and i don't feel hope
i don't feel despair
yeah i don't feel a thing
and i really don't care
because

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

if there ever comes a day
when my heart feels as before
pinocchio will die
and my soul will live once more
but until then

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

(copyright 2013, Moon Jester Radio, a division of Anarchic Syllogisms Unlimited)

Night Visions #1

Last night I dreamed of lightning. Again. There was a vast unbroken stretch of flat land, like a dead prairie or a desert. It was night, and there were no stars, no moon, just an unspecified glow that illuminated the unending vista. And then blindness, as a white sheet tore across the sky. The afterimage of the heavy clouds had not even faded from view when thunder broke the silence, assaulting my ears and shaking my every cell with a deep, echoing growl. No sooner did the ringing in my ears stop than a coiling, writhing ladder of blue-white bolts came crackling down from the clouded heavens and danced like mad faerie creatures upon the not-so-distant plain. This column of raw power shimmered and flashed as each bolt was replaced by the next, all the while moving slowly closer to where I stood, transfixed, deafened by each fresh rending of the atmosphere, unable to move, unable to look away. At some point, the wind appeared, the dead air came to life with a biting, swirling fury. After a few moments of dumbstruck awe, the column was before me. And, just as it reached me... it was gone. The wind stop, the clouds were silent. For the span of a heartbeat, and then a single bolt ripped through the dark clouds and struck me, square in the chest, just as the thunder began... and then I was awake.

words

words are magic
they are the dancing, empty air that can
teach,
encourage,
reveal,
communicate,
persuade,
confuse,
mislead,
destroy
words are nothing:
no thing
they exist only in the mind
yet by swirling some air
or making some scribbles on paper
or lighting up some pixels on a computer screen
one mind can cause the words in their mind to move to another mind
words are telepathy

words are power
but they are not all-power
they can stop a shooter (sometimes)
but never a bullet
they can stop a drunk (sometimes)
but never a car
they can stop an angry voice (sometimes)
but never a word already spoken
they are telepathy
not telekinesis
not time travel

the magic of words is enchantment
and the mind most enchanted by any given person's words
is their own mind
our words create our vision of reality
even when the words we use came from others
it is our words that give them power in our minds
our words that repeat their words
until we do not know where the words came from
only that they are there
but the secret of words is not just that the words of others are just words
the secret is that all of the words are just words
even the ones we tell ourselves

I Love Free Software

So I missed the actual "I Love Free Software Day" (it was February 14. I think I was likely busy hiding from Valentine's Day). So let me give a shout out to the Free Software Foundation Europe's cool campaign to express love for free software and the people who make it and promote it. Personally, without the folks behind LibreOffice, VideoLAN, gPodder, Slackware, and Linux Mint (to name the tip of the iceberg), my computing life would be Much Less Fun than it is.Same holds true for podcasts like The Linux Action Show and Linux Outlaws. Beyond that, so much of the infrastructure of the Internet is built on free software that even die hard Apple fanboys and Windows suits rely upon Free Software almost everyday of their online lives.

On behalf of me, to everyone who makes, supports, promotes, or in any other way contributes to free software: my sincerest "thank you!" from the bottom of my heart!

Us Wacky Americans and Our Toys

This is an interesting infographic I stumbled across today;

Source: frugaldad.com

Christopher Hitchens is Dead

For once I'm glad no one reads this blog any more. I want (need?) to have a place to record these thoughts, and maybe even a sense that I've put them out there, as part of the public tribute to the man, without actually making them public in any meaningful sense of the word...

It was with deep, though unsurprising, sadness that I read the words this morning, "Christopher Hitchens is dead." Unsurprising describes my sadness, I fully expected to feel his death as a personal loss, and it also describes his death: we all knew it was just a matter of time, for he had been sick for so very long.

I never knew Hitchens. As I am a Christian, he would have considered me an enemy of all he held dear. So be it. But I was an "enemy" who was drawn into the writings and thought of this worldly British man of letters. Whether commenting on Central European politics, the work of George Orwell, or the poisonous folly of belief, Hitchens's writings had a way of speaking to my soul.  I found God Is Not Great to be neither a shallow defense of anti-theism (as some Christians had) nor a devastating argument which destroyed my faith (as some now ex-Christians have). Instead, I read the words of a man who cared deeply and passionately about his fellow humans and was pleading, through as carefully a crafted appeal of logic and rhetoric as he could muster (and that was, by no means, inconsiderable), for us to repent of our evil for the salvation of the world. While I disagree with his identification of religion as "evil" I certainly respect his evangelist's heart. And, if we are being honest, I cannot completely dismiss his arguments that religion has fueled much evil in this world...

As an American, I share my countrymen's predisposition to be impressed and enthralled with English accents. I actively sought out podcasts and youtube videos where I could listen to Hitchens speak, and speak he could, like no one else. I could (and I say this because I have) listen to Hitchens talk for hours. My first read through of God Is Not Great was not a read at all, it was a listening to of the local public library's audiobook version, read, of course, by the author. When I later read the printed word, the voice of the man echoed through my head. Since then, my brain has supplied his voice to all of his writings, be that in Vanity Fair or some his older works I tracked down and savored. Letters to a Young Contrarian works particularly well with a "read by Hitch" brain conversion. (Incidentally, my copy has a picture of Hitchens in trench coat and holding a cigarette, which echoes my other English anti-hero, John Constantine. A character I suspect Hitch would have deplored, being rooted in a world of angels and demons).

Christopher Hitchens, like all of the so-called "New Atheists," made me think. I know that many in the theological and apologetic communities dismiss the New Atheists as being but pale shadows of the (by comparison) Old Atheists. I am undoubtedly a more shallow thinker than my fellow Christians, as evidenced by my judgment that the New Atheists raise important points, some of which I do not believe have been adequately answered. Maybe I'm just not smart enough to see the answers as adequate. Maybe I'm too fallen to get it. Maybe that's why I can admire people like Christopher Hitchens. Maybe.

Or maybe I get that Hitchens and Dawkins and all the rest are human beings, made in the image of God, endowed by their Creator with value and worth and dignity and gifts that, while not being used, perhaps, according to His will, nevertheless, to the eyes of faith, still shine forth as testament to the creative love of our God. At least, that's how my Christian mind sees it.

Christopher Hitchens voice and writings have been a significant part of my life for a few years now. And as inappropriate as it may seem, I feel a profound sense of loss. But how much more those who knew the man as friend, as family? My heart goes out to those who have lost a real, physical presence in their lives. The world has lost a public figure, but they have lost someone with whom their life paths were intertwined, that real interdependence we have with those of our local tribe or clan. My prayers are with them, though many of them find such sentiment distasteful.

Christopher Hitchens, cancer stopped first your voice and now at last your words entirely. But it will take the slow cancer of the years to end your influence in the hearts and minds of those who knew you or were touched by your work.

Life on Other Planets? So, What?

A potentially inhabitable planet has been discovered!  This is cool. But it is not a source for meaningful discussion of apologetics. If there is life on other planets, it neither confirms nor denies theism in general nor Christianity in particular. Contrariwise, if there is no life on other planets, that neither confirms nor denies naturalism. The so-called anthropic principle does not provide a solid case for either supernaturalism or naturalism. Those who believe that life was designed by an Intelligence will see the anthropic principle as reflecting that position. Those who see life's origin in the interplay between chance and necessity see the anthropic principle as a description of the rarity of life.

For the naturalist, the anthropic principle suggests the search for extraterrestrial life is searching for a needle in a haystack (with the possibility that there is no needle). So, why do it? Because, if there is other life out there, it provides us with a different sample to study. Right now, we have a sample size of 1. One planet upon which we can study the history of life. That is a terrible sample size. Fortunately, we have a variety of species, a variety of environments, and (compared to our individual life spans) a variety of generations to study. But all of this is from but one planet, but one initial set of conditions, but one primeval ancestor. Another planet with life would allow us to see what things might be different, what things are the same, what is contingent, what is necessary... our understanding of life could be forever altered.

Or, we might find that on that planet that things were pretty much the same as here. That everything we know about life holds for that planet's life history as well. Which would be awesome! We would know that what we learned from our little sample size of 1 is true for our sample size of 2.

Of course, if there was life, and it was similar, the theist will say, "Well, yes, God created it the same in both places." And if there are radical differences: "Behold the variety of God's creative powers!" And, given a belief in theism, that would be perfectly consistent to say.

Which brings me back around to the point: the existence of life on other planets is not an apologetics issue. It is definitely of scientific importance. It would even have theological ramifications (certainly it raises issues of soteriology and missions/evangelism), but it does not weigh in, at all, on whether there is a deity.

Lame Autobiographical Observation

Reflecting on the anthropomorphic animal cartoons that dominated children's television during my childhood, I suddenly realized that given the inevitable conflict between two characters, my preferences always followed the same patterns, despite the specific characters:

1. Bats
2. Mice
3. Monkeys
4. Canines (wolves, foxes, dogs)
5. Rabbits
6. Fish
7. Birds
8. Cats
9. Anything else but snakes
10. Snakes

OK, I'm sure I'm leaving out several (e.g., squirrels) and there are iffy sections (fish may trump rabbits, especially sharks). Oh, and of course, this makes ABSOLUTELY no impact on anything. The answer to the "so what?" is "nothing." But, it popped into my head while brushing my teeth this morning and has stuck there. I'm hoping typing it up and dropping it on the Internet will get it out of my head.

dmr: rip

Caught up in the universal expressions of mourning for Steve Jobs, the death of Dennis Ritchie has gone unnoticed by the world at large. I just found out this morning, but it seems he passed away last weekend, the result of a long struggle with illness. He was 70.

For those who might not know, Dennis Ritchie created the C programming language and was one of the co-creators of Unix. His contributions to the world of technology are deep and long-reaching. I never met dmr (as he was sometimes known as) but I feel a strangely powerful sense of loss. For the past several days, I haven't really understood how so many people who never knew Steve Jobs could be in mourning. But now, I think I get it. Not in a way I can verbalize yet, but in my gut, I get it.

So, Dennis and Steve, you are missed by millions who never knew you, but who love what you have done for their lives, who respect your vision, and are grateful for the time your genius was with us. Rest in peace.

Where the Music Came From

No one is born knowing music. We encounter it at different moments in our lives, introduced to us by different people or circumstances. Here's my history (note, I may have heard of groups before the moment listed, but I didn't start really listening beyond the hit-and-miss of the radio until these people and these moments coincided to "turn me on" to the music listed. Also, note that I don't necessarily still listen to all of these...)

Roughly, in chronological order:

• Nursery rhymes, Disney songs, Herman's Hermits: Mom
• Classic country: Dad
• Kiss, Alice Cooper: Darrin
• Beatles, Pink Floyd: Glen
• Weird Al: uncertain (likely: Jim or Jeff)
• Queen, Prince: Jim
• Blue Oyster Cult, Hawkwind: a letter in an Elric comic book
• Styx: John
• Rush, Motley Crue, Quiet Riot, Ratt: Mike B
• Jimi Hendrix, ZZ Top, Stevie Ray Vaughan: Mike P
• Larry Norman: Scott (my old boss at Joy Unspeakable)
• Stryper: Time magazine article
• Bob Dylan: uncertain?
• Steve Taylor: Kathy R
• Daniel Amos: Kathy J
• Musicals, Sarah Brightman, classical music: Julie
• Todd Snider: Radio station played "Talking Seattle Grunge Blues"
• Tori Amos: Amy (not my sister)
• Alanis Morrisette: Radio station playing pretty much everything from Jagged Little Pill

From the late 1990s on, most of my music discoveries have come from the Internet. Especially noteworthy are:

• Filk: general web surfing
• Luke Ski: unConventional was mentioned on a Firefly website
• Michelle Dockery: "Mal's Song" was mentioned on a Firefly website
• Devo Spice, Worm Quartet: Luke Ski related surfing (which eventually led to thefump.com)
• Warp 11: cdbaby.com (where I had previously purchased a Luke Ski CD)
• Steve Goodie, Robert Lund, Insane Ian, Flat 29: the fump.com
• Carla Ulbrich: cdbaby.com
• Marc Gunn: cdbaby.com
• Garfunkel and Oates: cdbaby.com
• Nerdcore: Discovered a copy of Nerdcore Rising at local video store (not really an Internet discovery, but all the nerdcore I own, I've downloaded/bought online; especially MC Lars and Zealous1)
• Baba Brinkman: Mentioned online in connection with Darwin celebrations
• Bad Religion: interview with Dr. Greg Graffin on Skepticality podcast
• Wizard rock, Adam WarRock: GeekDads HipTrax podcast
• Meekakitty: "Star Trek Girl" was mentioned on an online ballot
• Ministry of Magic, All Caps: friends of Meekakitty

Exceptions to the "Internet-based discovery since the 1990s" rule:

• "Once More, With Feeling": Jeff
• Video game, computer game, and movie soundtracks: Nate (from whom I learned to actually listen to these "background" instrumentals)
• Flight of the Conchords: Holly
• Avril Lavigne, Taylor Swift, Glee: Kara

My deep thanks to everyone who has introduced me to music, shared my enthusiasm for this music, and, of course, made the music that has been a part of me. There are far more musical influences than those listed (and some of those listed are significantly less influential than others... but at one time, even if only for a moment, each musician has quickened a part of my soul). 

Everything You Know Will Change in a Flash...

Today, Flashpoint begins (cue goose bumps).

DC's big summer event begins today, with the release of Flashpoint #1. The basic premise, apparently, is that Reverse Flash goes back in time and prevents many of the DC Universe superheroes from becoming their heroic selves. Barry Allen has to remain the Flash, or else there won't be a Reverse Flash (no Barry, no speed force; no speed force, no speedsters, including Reverse Flash). However, in this new, messed up DCU, Abin Sur didn't crash, thus Hal Jordan never became Green Lantern. Baby Kal-El ended up in an Area 51 kind of lab, rather than in Smallville (at least, I think that's what happened to him, we'll see).

In addition to the main miniseries, there is a number of 3-issue spin-off miniseries as well as a handful of one-shots. This will run through the summer and into early fall. There's no way I can afford every book that is a part of this, so I've picked a few that look interesting to me.

Anyway, issue #1, tonight, after work. This is a hugely ambitious project that will either Rock or Blow on an epic level. My money is on Rock. Spoiler-laden review will follow soon...

Note: no such reviews forthcoming. It's been too cool to spoil.

New Apes!

August 5, 2011 - The Rise of the Planet of the Apes

Check out wikipedia, imdb, and the official site.

I've always loved the Planet of the Apes movies, even though they were cheesy beyond belief. Maybe it's the nostalgia. They use to show some of the Apes movies for free at the local theater during the summer for kids to have something to do. It was kind of a magical thing back then, and a bit of that magic survives even watching them on DVD in my living room today.

Another bit was, again, for a kid, the makeup was great and some of the scenes were, well, a bit scary. Admittedly, today, the makeup looks less impressive (but, still, not terrible) and the post-apocalyptic mutant humans don't seem quite so scary (well, maybe a little).

And then there's Tim Burton's remake. It almost cost me my Apes fanboy card. But there were redeeming moments in that, as well. (Seriously, if I can at all claim to like Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, can I really diss Mr. Burton's efforts? Especially with the presence of his beautiful wife as an ape?)

So, August 5, I await you. Maybe not with as much anticipation as Green Lantern, but still with a bit of that little kid's excitement, going to the Avalon to see a "new" Apes movie for the first time some thirty-odd years ago. Ah, summer, once again you have captured my heart!

Yeah, Life's Like That

From an interview with Christopher Moore:

4) Your books have a unique, “that’s frightening, but I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all” atmosphere. Do you often think like that, about life in general?

"That’s exactly how I view life, all the time. I’m always horrified by the randomness of life, as well as continually amused by the same."

Yep.