The Redhead song

I stumbled over this and I love it. I don't know Russian so I don't understand the lyrics, but it's a very pretty song. According to the comment, it's a Belorussian folk song. I'm going to try the melody on the banjo.

The Redhead song

The vacation was great!

We had a great time on the 10-day cruise through the Southern Caribbean.  We are home now, a bit tired and definitely tanned.

There's a song that the Flying Karamazovs would sing that I've always liked at this time of year. If it's not obvious in print, the tune is "Sentimental Journey."

We would like to wish you 'Merry Christmas'
But we're not all Christians here.
Hanukkah would raise the same objections.
What's the theme this time of year?

New Year, we might wish you "Happy New Year!"
But it's not the start of Jew Year,
Or of the Chinese....
It's hard as heck to be politically correct.

Have yourselves a really merry Solstice.
For all the others, it's the cause.
Have yourselves a really swinging Solstice.
Ritually sacrifice a Santa Claus!

The vacation was great!

Lily Allen song

This is most decidedly not SFW, but it's a lovely song. Susan the Wonderchild introduced me to this yesterday morning. I like Lily Allen's voice and there's something very 70s about the tune that's quite perky.

Lily Allen song

My last week!

I was told that my layoff was being moved up to the end of October. Hurrah! A couple hours later, I found myself singing the chorus of the "Salvation Army Song" to myself, except I'd changed "S-I-N" to "I.O.M." (the initials of the operating division I was working for). I think I'm really, really happy about this.

Oh, G-L-O-R-Y to be S-A-V-E-D!

H-A-P-P-Y to be F-R-double-E!

F-R-double-E from the bonds of I.O.M.

Glory, glory, hallelujah, tra-la-la, amen!

My last week!

Cat Drinking Songs

Okay, you know I love cats. Well, I just got sent this link of Irish Drinking Songs for your cat. I like that idea.

Cat Drinking Songs

Jack Chick tract for Cthulhu

Jack Chick is a bizarre comic book artist who has a particularly fundamentalist view of Christianity, notably that the KJV bible is the best/most inspired/only acceptable translation. He's anti-Catholic, anti-Jew, anti-liberal, anti-pagan, anti-homosexual, anti-occult, anti-Communist, and to a fair extent, anti-education (because that makes you question and is run by liberals at colleges and you don't need it).

Most of us know Jack Chick tracts even if we don't know the name. They're fairly toxic, badly printed, and heavy-handed. This is a Jack Chick-style tract for the gods of the Necronomicon. :)

"Pardon me, boys, is that the lair of great Cthulhu?
The city of slime
Where it's night all the time...."

Jack Chick tract for Cthulhu

DVD of me in concert

July 4th 1993, I did a concert at Westercon 46. It was possibly one of the best I've ever done. Turns out the video tapes of that concert have been transcribed to DVD and Phil Zack, bless 'is heart, sent me one. It's wonderful to see me from 14 years ago--I had HAIR! and it was BROWN, not SILVER! It's a little annoying to hear that I go flat but I always knew that {sigh}. Nevertheless, it's a really fun piece of me and I'm glad to have it.

I'll be glad to make you a copy; drop me email and let me know and I'll mail you one.

DVD of me in concert

Really nasty song (mwahahahahaaaaa!)

Note: If you're easily offended, skip this post. If you're not easily offended, read on!

I actually wrote this song over a year ago, but I've debated putting it on the blog. Recent events and seeing still more of the damage fundamentalists are doing to the world has prompted me to post this. Mockery's an exceptional political tool and it works all the better with people who have no sense of humor... which'd be these folks.

The backstory is this: This song was actually inspired by an abortive attempt to have a constructive discussion with a self-anointed Christian columnist named Mel who every week attempts to be profound (generally without any success, though I did see one or two columns that bordered on "cogent") in a wee, tiny little newspaper in Minnesota. I've seen his mailing list—he's not very ept with computers and didn't seem to grasp the idea of blind mailing lists—and he's got a very small fan club, but like most of his brand of twerp, he's enormously self-important.

I really wanted to find out how he got from the Bible to the nasty, judgmental, small-minded positions he took in his rather sloppily-written columns. It seemed like such a wild leap, and finding fundamentalists who are actually willing to talk about things to anyone who's not already assimilated into the mindset is very difficult. Unfortunately, having promised that he wanted to talk to me about what he was writing, he then proceeded to spout his peasant version of politics and then refused to talk to me after I started asking him a lot of questions. It was the usual line of drivel, sadly; I'd hoped for something new. (Shoot, I'd have settled for conversation that demonstrated self-awareness and not something generated by an "Eliza"-like program set up to run in "Christian drivel" mode, but no luck even there.)

He even lied to me about getting back to me in a week; I dropped him a couple emails reminding him of this promise about 2 years later, but he didn't even acknowledge them. Pity he doesn't have the courage of his supposed convictions… but I do have to thank him for one thing: he inspired a wonderful song!

The song is entitled "You Can Tell a Christian..." and it's really kind of a natural. You're welcome to spread it around in its current form (the link will download a PDF file).

Remember that there really are good Christians out there who are to be known and praised--I've known a couple myself and they're great people!--but far, far too many of them in this country are loudmouthed, ignorant little peasants who have no reason for continued existence on a planet that's discovered penicillin. They're the ones I wrote this song about.

(BTW, if you're a fan of this sort of thing, you might also enjoy the classic music video, "Keep Your Jesus Off My Penis" by Eric Schwartz, who coined the lovely term "hypo-Christianity.")

Really nasty song (mwahahahahaaaaa!)

And the hits just keep coming!

Rick Davis has done a song entitled "Cheney's Got a Gun." 

Has it occurred to anyone that any shotgun wound involving ~200 pellets and had at least one that was in deep enough to get into the circulatory system and migrate to the heart is not a "minor" hunting accident as the Veep's propaganda minister would have us believe? Accidents happen, but this one is just plain funny. 

Some veins of ore are just too rich to play out quickly.  This is one of them. 

[Addendum: okay, it turns out that this isn't a song of Rick Davis's. He just linked to it. It is, in fact, a Bob & Tom Twisted Tune. Oh, well. What's interesting nevertheless is that someone put this song together, recorded it, and posted it within a couple days of the incident. Like I say, it's pastures o' plenty for the schnarky.]

And the hits just keep coming!

Raccoons wassailing

The Babe and I were driving off somewhere shortly before Christmas and we saw the raccoons that have been visiting us running across the street about a block away to someone's house. They've clearly been making the rounds in the neighborhood, hitting up everyone for a bit of Christmas cheer. The Babe immediately said "They're wassailing!"

Wassail, wassail, all over the town
Our masks, they are black, and our tummies are brown.
Our eyes, they are bright, and our spirits are free,
Wassail, wassail, wassail to thee!

Raccoons wassailing

IDiots

I think it's delightully apt to identify intelligent design proponents as "IDiots." It fits on just so many levels. Yes, there are certainly questions of "How did the universe get here?" and "Where is 'here', anyway?" and other measures of the vastness of it all, but intelligent design is just fundamentalist Christian drivel wrapped up in a wrapper of pseudo-science. I'm reminded of the last verse of "Have a Nice Day" by Mark Graham, one of the two kings of Mongrolia (the Land of Mongrel Folk).

We believe in the creation, evolution is a sham,
And for you awful humanists we do not give a damn,
‘Cause we believe in science when the word of God agrees,

And we believe in science that destroys our enemies.

There's a great article in Scientific American that addresses 15 of the popular arguments of creationists and other IDiots. I've always loved the basic concept that IDiots usually don't understand what a "theory" is in scientific terms. You can tell that they're going off-tangent at that point and headed for the horizon. The article also had the results of a survey that correlated the belief in intelligent design with lack of education: in other words, the more ignorant you are in general, the more likely you are to believe this twaddle.

Mind you, all this does give us some guidelines for society in general. Someone suggested (purportedly in a letter to a San Luis Obispo newspaper, although I've not been able to find the provenance for this) that we don't need to vaccinate absolutely everyone against the next possible flu pandemic.

SOME DON'T NEED VACCINE

Recent news about the avian flu virus has raised concerns from main street to the White House. There is the possibility, even likelihood, that the virus will mutate into a form that can more easily infect humans. As the president pointed out, a vaccine cannot be made until this evolution occurs. This raises the concern that it may be impossible to create enough vaccine fast enough to protect all our citizens.

But there is hope. Gallup polls tell us that up to 45 percent of Americans don't believe in evolution. Since random mutation is the engine of evolution, these same people must believe that the virus cannot mutate.

Therefore, there is no need to waste vaccine on folks who believe there is no possible threat to themselves--thus leaving a sufficient supply for the rest of us.

Perhaps the president, given his doubts about evolution, may wish to demonstrate his leadership by foregoing vaccination. This approach has added benefits. Polls also tell us that disbelief in evolution is more pronounced among the less educated, the poor and conservatives. If the anti-evolutionists among these groups were to opt out of vaccination then, through immediate deaths and natural selection, we would reduce poverty, raise educational attainment, and become a more progressive society.

(One secondhand online source lists a name and address for the writer, but I am omitting it intentionally.)

IDiots: can't live with 'em, can't live... uh... with 'em.

IDiots

Thanksgiving weekend

We drove up to Tacoma for the holiday. We got on the road Thursday morning around 10am and headed north. Dinner was at Karen & Russ's at 4:00 and we made it in plenty of time. We were joined by other family members and a couple of guests, including a chap named Leo, a reservist who was shipping out to Baghdad the following evening. His wife wasn't able to join him and us for the evening, as she was stuck in Yakima, but we made him welcome for the evening. The food was great. We had a turkey and a ham, lots of stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, and Karen and Andy made a stellar gravy. Among many other things to recommend this family is the fact that they're good cooks.

The Babe and I had lunch with her stepchildren, Lori and Jace, and Jace's fiancé, Steph, at a new restaurant in Tacoma called Joeseppe's. Lori just got married a few weeks ago to a young man she's known most of her life named Phillip. Phillip's a Marine sniper and is back in Fallujah for another 8 months.

After lunch, we stopped in at Jace & Steph's house, which is a nice little starter home. Their dogs (don't know what types) are pretty well behaved and rather attractive. We did the family photos thing, so here are a few shots of us in various assemblages:

Steph, Jace, and the Babe

Me and the girls

Steph, Jace, Lori, and the Babe

Friday evening, we had a "let's eat the leftovers!" dinner at Karen & Russ's place. There wasn't quite enough gravy left over (alas!), but there was plenty of everything else and lots of family. (Like I say, I'm very fond of the Babe's family.) After dinner, we played a fun card game called "99" for a while. It's relatively simple and it has a lot of the feel of playing Uno, for simplicity of the rules, for the speed of the game, and the sheer pleasure at screwing yer neighbor with a devious card throw. mwahahahahahahaaaaaaaa!

Saturday, we stopped in on Barb & Dan (still more family). Barb & Dan hadn't been able to make the Thanksgiving or the leftover dinner and we didn't want to take a trip up without seeing them, too. Dan showed me the wood shop he's building. I am drooling with envy! It'll have everything. One of their dogs, Baron, a 90lb German Shepherd who is thankfully pretty well-behaved, came outside with us when we tromped out towards the shop. I saw Baron bound across the yard and pick up an old tire in his mouth and then shake it. I half-expected chunks of rubber to come out of the sidewall when he did it. Baron is clearly a dog that You Do Not Mess With, at least more than once.

After a lovely visit, we drove out to the peninsula to see JA & Tames. We caught up on this and that, I walked around with JA while he fed the sheep (much larger flock of sheep than had been there the last time I was there) and the horses, who are always nice to see. JA & Tames had repainted everything since last I was there and the inside of the house is glowing. We had a very warming dinner and then drove over to Peg & Dan's place.

Peg and Dan (and the one daughter still at home) live in a 6400sqft house they built on the peninsula on the water. The house feels rich, comfortable, and scrumptious. There's woodwork everywhere, all mahogany (Peg said that there are 38,000 board feet of mahogany in the house). One of the nice things is there's not a single hollow-core door in the place. All the doors are solid, heavy, and very attractive... well, assuming you like polished mahogany, which I sure do.

Dan's a Puget Sound pilot, a fascinating job that can drag him off at all hours at times to pilot a ship in or out of port. Peg's a counselor in private practice in the city. They're very nice people.

Dan in his element

Peg

Apart from the sheer pleasure of spending time with them, Dan loves playing the piano and singing songs and show tunes from the first part of the 20th century. Both JA and the Babe love singing songs like that. So do I, but I'm not a patch on them, so I usually sit back and admire.

Warming up

Tames and Peg don't sing, so they always form the Admiring Throng.

Lounging in admiration

Listening to the three of them go at it is a wonderful way to spend the evening.

Family night

I have a fondness for this kind of music, too, so listening to it is no hardship. And, as I'm fond of observing, the Babe has a great set o' pipes.

"You maaaade me love you...."

The three of them sang for several hours. Heckuva deal!

Getting into it

We finally had to bid goodbye, as we still needed to drive back to Tacoma that evening and get up at a reasonable hour the next day, but we could've stayed far later under other circumstances. It's always fun to really belt out the old favorites.

Sunday, the Babe and I had divergent activities. She had a friends-and-family obligation for the day, while I had a date with Brian and his pair of tickets to the Seahawks-Giants game. Brian and Fong (and Raymond the wonderchild) picked me up in Tacoma on their way home from Portland, so the Babe had the car. We drove to their place, offloaded some gear, and drove up to the International District in Seattle for lunch. We did a lot of really tasty dim sum (a pleasure I haven't had in far too long), after which Fong dropped us off at the stadium. We'd missed the kickoff and just as we were arriving, the Seahawks had intercepted a pass and gotten a touchdown. The crowd was about ready to eat a bleacher in their excitement. The rest of the game was good, but we were really worried that the Seahawks--who've had a great season--were going to dribble away a good lead. They almost did, actually: in the 4th quarter, the NY Giants scored a touchdown and then a 2-point conversion to tie the game 21-21. With 4 seconds to go in the 4th quarter and no chance of recovery, the NY Giants got up to field goal length and kicked a field goal to win the game... and it would've if it hadn't gone outside the goal post by about a yard.

Well, the crowd just exploded at that point. The Seahawks had a chance to win in a sudden-death overtime. The OT quarter started and the Seahawks just weren't pushing hard enough. The Giants got another crack at a field goal... which they missed. Boy howdy, we dodged another bullet! The Seahawks ultimately had to cede the ball to the Giants again, who were playing great offense that day, and they got it close enough for a good field goal at last! Unfortunately, the kicker was clearly having an off day, because he blew this field goal, too. The Seahawks finally realized they were going to have to stop messing around, so they pushed the ball up the field, got it to field goal length, and got it through the goalposts without problem. Amazing game, although, as Brian said, the Seahawks only won because they failed to lose.

We rode home on the Seattle Sounder. Brian got off at Tukwila and I rode it to Freighthouse Square in Tacoma. The Babe, bless her, had packed up our stuff and thrown it into the car and we drove home straight from there. It was about 6pm when we left (the game had run late, after all) so it was 11:30 or so when we got home.

And once again, there was the pleasure of sleeping in our own bed again.

Thanksgiving weekend

Andras and Deirdre

We could easily have spent a couple days exploring Lexington and Concord. It's charming there and we'd have loved to see the inside of the Wayside and there was plenty of touristy stuff worth doing in the towns from the look of it. Add another thing to the list for the next time we're in Massachusetts.

We headed west to Worthington. Andras and Deirdre (et al.) live on a farm out there. It was a longer drive than we thought it'd be (Massachusetts is a lot wider than I thought it was and the roads weren't necessarily as traversable as I might have expected), so we got there around 6:00pm.

I've known Andras and Deirdre since 1982, when I met them at an early Pagan Spirit Gathering. They were head of Earthspirit then (and now) and they did lots of good things for the pagan and Wiccan communities back then (and still do, from what I can see). I was also blessed with the chance to work with them in Covenant of the Goddess for a number of years. They are fine people, wonderful singers, well-read and thoughtful, and they have a delicious sense of humor. They are also delightfully pretty. All these traits have been passed on to both of their children. The last times I saw them was in 1989 at their old house in Boston and then a couple years later in Seattle, when they came out to visit us. Donovan was very young and Isobel hadn't been born yet. They have long since moved from the Greater Boston area and are living on 135 acres in as pretty a valley as you've ever seen.

Having braved the roads and heading out to roughly the middle of nowhere (but a very pretty nowhere, I hasten to add!), we made it to the farm. There were many hugs and introductions. I introduced the Babe to them (they'd not met her before) and we both met Donovan (who wasn't talking much when I'd seen him many years before) and Isobel (who hadn't even been born the last time I saw A & D). It was amazing: 15 years and Deirdre hasn't changed. I'm of the opinion that she's never going to show her age.

Deirdre

Andras and Deirdre

Andras

Isobel

It being later than we'd hoped to arrive, we took a tour around the farm while there was still light. The first thing we saw was the stream. There are several streams on the property; this one is the biggest.

Looking down the stream bed

Stream and sculpture

The stream was running low when we saw it (although we heard tales of the flood a few years back, when the stream was auditioning for a role as "The Gushing Torrent"), so we could see the bed easily. As we got closer to it, we saw that there were a number of rock sculptures sticking up on the banks.

Standing rock sculpture

A friend of theirs comes by and creates rock sculptures. I didn't find out how. When the stream is fuller, I'm sure that some of these are sticking out from under the water, Andy Goldsworthy-style. (If you're not already familiar with Andy Goldsworthy's work, check out some sample images here.) I really like what he's done.

Another rock sculpture

More rock sculptures

In a field near the stream, there's a maze in the making.

The rudimentary maze

The maze is currently laid out with stones. I've always thought that a large parcel of land is enhanced by the addition of a maze somewhere.

Isobel and the maze

Deirdre near the maze

Not far from the maze is a Peace Circle.

Peace circle

In the Peace Circle is a pile of rocks brought from all over the world and deposited here.

Peace rock pile

We headed back up from the Peace Circle towards the house and the animals.

Deirdre and house

We'd seen the chickens (some of whom were stretching the concept of "free-range" to its absolute limit) as we drove up. They're a good-looking bunch of birds and fresh free-range eggs are a culinary bedazzlement, but, honestly, I've seen chickens and there's not to say about them but, "Yup, Maw, that's a fine-looking bunch o' chickens!" Goats, on the other hand, have character--usually on the pugnacious side, but character nonetheless. The billy has an amazing set of horns.

Donovan and the head goat

We then went up to see the llama, whose name is Sinta.

Sinta

The llama lives in a pen with a bunch of the goats. The goats and the llama are reasonably friendly and tolerate people getting into the pen with them.

Isobel and the goats

Quite apart from the convenience of corralling the llama with the goats, the theory is that the llama will protect the goats from coyotes should any show up. "Has it done so?" I asked. "Well, no, but there is a llama nearby that stomped a porcupine to death when it got into the pen." "How did they know for sure?" "They had to pull quills out of the llama's feet." Hokay….

Sinta

The Babe didn't get too close to Sinta. She doesn't have a fear of big animals, but she has seen llamas spit on two different occasions (they do spit every so often). Both times, it nailed one of her brothers, so I guess that counts as a draw.

Sinta

I got close enough to pet Sinta a little. Llamas are rather adorable animals, generally, and I have always enjoyed the fact that they hum.

Sinta and Donovan

Andras and Sinta

We then hiked up the hill. The Babe's knees were bothering her so she didn't join us. We passed the back of the farm house and could peer into Andras's office, which looked to be about the level of hoorah's nest that mine usually is.

Andras's office

We also went past the remains of the old sugar shack, which from the looks of it remains standing mostly out of force of habit at this point. Donovan told me that up until a year or two ago, you could still smell the lingering aroma of maple sugar in the shack.

The old sugar shack

The sugar shack was up the hill from the house. The sugar shack was on my right as I headed up the hill. Looking straight up the hill, there was a large clearing. I heard stories about sledding aaaaaaall the way down the hill, navigating the path at the bottom of the hill onto the road by the house, and then going all the way down the road to the stream: about 1/4 mile! Quite a ride, I must say! (I tried enhancing the picture as best I could, but the light was fading at that point and it was tough getting a good shot. Next time, next time.)

Looking up the hill

Facing away from the sugar shack to the left was more field. Although the picture doesn't show it, there's a much sharper drop-off that leads down to where the llamas and goats and bunnies are. Isobel and Donovan were telling me about how they liked sledding and skiing on that part of it best.

Looking across the field

A little ways above the sugar shack on the right was another clearing, in which was a standing circle of stones that Andras and Deirdre had created.

Standing circle

Andras told me that they'd gotten stones in place in three different ways:

Sledging them in with rollers--The kids had been responsible for picking up the rollers and running them around to the front again.

Dragging them by ox-team--A team of oxen pulled them in. Andras said that it was amazing watching them work because they did everything together: when the ox on the left put a foot forward, the ox on the right put the corresponding foot forward. He said they looked like they were thinking with one brain.

Dragging them with a small tractor--The modern way, yes, but it works, too.

All three ways were fun. And the circle is standing, so they were all effective.

Isobel at the circle

Deirdre at the circle

One of the stones looked very much like the Barber stone of the Avebury circle. It's a fine stone circle, as good as any contemporary stone circle I've seen. Of course, the surroundings and company improve it, too.

The Barber Stone

Mother and daughter

Andras at the circle

We went back down the hill, snagged the Babe, and went inside. Dinner was fantastic and there were several other people in the community joining us. Afterwards we dug out songs that we hadn't sung in ages and new gems that we hadn't had a chance to share with each other.

Andras in his element

Andras reminded me of one song that I'd completely forgotten that I used to do, entitled "You Can Sing Anything You Want to 'Alice's Restaurant'." Andras, Deirdre, Donovan, and Isobel all joined in for two songs with harmony. We were thrilled.

Family harmony

Sue was also able to join us later in the evening--huzzah!

Sue

We kept singing and telling stories until 11-ish, at which time we bade sorry goodbyes and headed off for the evening. I'd had a grand time and was very pleased with having been able to share some of my favorite people with my favorite person and vice versa.

The Babe was vastly impressed with Donovan and Isobel (me, too) said as much. We'll be visiting again and not in 15 years. We got to our hotel, crawled into bed, and fell asleep almost immediately after a rich, happy day.

Andras and Deirdre

Latest book's done!

It's Sunday and I'm still reveling in the latest book being done and out and off to the printer. This one's "Firefox & Thunderbird Garage," my 24th book. I have high hopes for sales on this one... well, I have high hopes for sales on *all* of my books as a rule, but the indications are that these particular hopes are going to be well-founded.

We drove over to the housing development in the south Eugene Hills to look at the lot where our house is going to be built. That's always fun. We made note of where the local mailbox is--across the street from our house; not bad!--and the fire hydrant (one door over; huzzah ditto). We're looking at what we can do with landscaping on the hillside above the lot. It'll be a cross between ground covers and maybe a strip where I can plant squashes and so on so they'll trail over the rock wall as they grow.

My joy would be greater if I weren't so darned sick. I've had some kind of mild cold for a few weeks--allergies, perhaps?--that's blossomed yesterday into what really *does* feel like a cold. Bleah. We sang at church this morning, but I slept most of the afternoon.

Latest book's done!