Ghost of a flea

Shaka Oil not included

I admit I came across this Farscape Peacekeeper grenade prop as part of my quest for a Peacekeeper Commando outfit. These grenades are reportedly exact replicas of the Peacekeeper weapon used in the show; they pop up frequently on eBay. Just a minute, I thought, don't I already have one of those in the bathroom? Sure enough, my remaining bottle of DK Fuel for Men proved to be the inspiration for the Farscape prop department. I suppose one must have varied interests to notice this sort of thing; both the series and the cologne have since been discontinued.

On a related note is this seven-part gift, a lengthly question and answer session with the ever engaging Claudia Black and Ben Browder at Farscape Con '04. Lots of spoilers so save it for later if you have not watched the series in order from start to finish. Finally, how is it possible I had not heard of - let alone seen - "Behind the Camera: The Unauthorized Story of 'Charlie's Angels'"?

Moonsorrow: Jumalten Kaupunki

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Non-folk metal related Update: Flea Market Montgomery: Now we are talking Flea-dance!

Sarah Silverman Program

The Sarah Silverman Program: Why don't you see it? Don't be a pube!

Muddle Instead of Music

Thanks to the well connected Sister of the Flea, I was afforded the opportunity to take in the third and final dress rehearsal of the Canadian Opera Company's "Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk", opening at Toronto's new opera house, the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts. From an unpromising shell in early stages of construction, the finished opera house has transformed into a juiced-up version of Sadler's Wells; all windows and stairways and a rush bar on every level. The interior proved to be even be better than its inspiration. Particularly impressive is an internal glass staircase, reportedly the longest of its kind in the world. Once inside the hall itself any possible expectation I might have had of the space was exceeded. I doubt there is a bad seat in the house and the all important acoustics were apparently flawless. Jack Diamond: Well done.

But aside from that Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play? Suffice to say I kept expecting Troy McClure to enter stage right dressed as Lenin. The Economist has some nerve recommending this as anything but self-parody. Dmitry Shostakovich’s sole artistic purpose was to avoid being sent to Siberia by a gangster dressed up as a socialist. To this end his works are an unrelenting critique of bourgeois taste. Soviet audiences applauded for fear of the labour camps; Toronto's opera-goers for fear of looking stupid. It is something beyond irony, beyond grotesque, to be surrounded by studied, oafish laughter at any point an ill-educated establishment felt it could participate without making a faux pas ("She called him a rat! Ha ha! The height of wit!"). I could say that the piece lacked the subtlety of a holodeck mise-en-scène performance by the bridge crew players of the mid-'80s Enterprise. I think instead I shall let Pravda do the heavy lifting.

Quite. We also left in a high-dudgeon before the final scene which goes to show it is possible to find common ground in the unlikeliest company. The lyrics are vulgar and the music a cacophony. It is somehow no surprise to me Joseph Stalin had a more refined aesthetic sense than Canada's ersatz society. Shostakovich only rehabilitated himself with his Fifth symphony, "A Soviet Artist's Response to Just Criticism". Let us see if the opera company follows his lead into their second season.

Lumsk: I Lytinne Tva

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Disappearance and reappearance

Fred Kiesche considers the ever shrinking selection of science fiction in the big box retail environment. I have noticed the same problem. Look, I have no problem with Shatner making a quick buck from "writing" a novel; if ghost writing for Houdini was good enough for Lovecraft it is good enough for whoever is paying the rent cranking out TekWar. But every shelf inch taken up by the lie is forcing out real authors. It is the literary equivalent of monocropping.

The same phenomenon has been the case for many years in the horror section. God bless you, Stephen King, but get out of the road: You are holding up traffic for miles. I expect the problem may be addressed once the boffins produce a PDA with a legible screen. PDF editions may bring back classics currently available only with an attentive eye to the best used bookstore in town (yesterday's score: Frank Belknap Long's "Journey into Darkness"). The second comment at Fred's post puts the problem down to a tax code which incentivises returning pulp fiction to the pulp from whence it came. It seems to me that if publishers and booksellers cannot or will not make books available for sale the people will turn to the torrents in much the same way they have for music, television and film.

On a related, and more cheerful, note is the ever increasing availability of classics once lost in the mists of childhood and to the vagueries of late night television broadcasting. Mike Campbell has made a useful survey of YouTube offerings of Robin of Sherwood, easily the best film or television adaptation of the myth. Where there are fans there will be someone to string the bow.

Prince Charming

Both the Sister of the Flea and I arrived at the same conclusion at approximately the same time: Buy Toronto FC season tickets. The problem? They are a bit pricier than either of us had anticipated. This thanks in some small part to the one man marketing extravaganza that is David Beckham. His British Invasion is not limited to North America's would-be soccer fans, however, but has struck at the heart of pop culture on this side of the Atlantic. No word on what Disney is paying him for the honour of playing Prince Charming.

Here is the obligatory link for Flea-readers with an animated interest in Beyonce and Scarlett. You can thank me later.

The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty Update: Agent Bedhead has better pictures!

Battlelore: Journey to the Undying Lands

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

The French and The Saunders

The best screen adaptation of The Lord of the Rings since the last one. Very actory.

Robbie Williams: She's Madonna

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.*

* Folk Metal... next week at the Flea!

Dead serious

If James Lileks was more camp than kitsch - and could get Tod Oldham to write introductions to his books - he might have written Obscene Interiors. Justin Jorgensen's blog is also worth a look; nuclear power plant amusement parks, a creepy shadow installation and especially this Dead Serious Hoody. Me want.

Back off: Get your own sandwich!

Rumours that there is more than friendship between Belinda Stronach and that notorious rascal, Bill Clinton cannot be more than rumours. Can they? The cad!

Belinda, you are second only to Wendy Mesley to no one in my heart. I am sure we can work something out if only we try.

Gwen Stefani: Sweet Escape

Many people, including Agent Bedhead, are baffled by Gwen Stefani's latest. These people have someone failed to notice Gwen Stefani's legs. There you go. Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Reality bites

I am not sure which is the more triumphant bit of reality tv news. First, confirmation of the return of Mirna and Schmirna - don't miss the team video - to The Amazing Race (hat tip to the Sister of the Flea) or the long anticipated word of Elizabeth Hurley's replacement as host of Project Catwalk, viz Kelly Osbourne.

It is a fascinating choice. Hurley was reportedly considered too plummy for the part; and plummy Kelly ain't.

When that which is perfect is come

With A Scanner Darkly's dvd release I have finally got to see Winona Ryder in all her virtual glory. She remains the sweetheart of a generation what with her disconnection and her gentle snark and that certain something suggesting madness in the tone of her voice. I suspect that if those of us from the '80s make it into our 80s we will still be a little in love with her.

The film's use of cell-shading is the obvious stand-out effect but the result is more than a gimmick; perhaps the most faithful film adaptation of PKD's work in terms of mood and that disconcerting slippage of identity which is his hallmark. Robert Downey Jr does yeoman's work. I notice he has been set to star as Tony Stark in the forthcoming Iron Man feature. Good choice.

Thom Yorke: Black Swan

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance (some nsfw lyrical content).

A lot of frelling good this is going to be

After some time and in great secret I have now watched all four seasons of Farscape and finished with the Peacekeeper Wars. I have quite a bit to say about it but am going to start with the observation that the show has changed my vocabulary; perhaps the best litmus test for successful speculative fiction. To expand on the subject is this handy list of fictional expletives once again made possible by the flawed miracle of Wikipedia.

God put you in my path

IDontLikeYouInThatWay has the trailer for Black Snake Moan. Also, pictures of Christina Ricci. Umm. Hmm. Probably not safe for work unless you work in the Tatooine slave barge sector.

Mecano: Hawaii-Bombay

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.*

* And check out the live version: Hot!

Angeline Jolie is afraid of Americans

Angelina Jolie has recently expressed her difficulties as an American on the world stage (via Agent Bedhead).

The thing most Americans I have met do not seem to grasp is that while it is true most people on Earth hold nasty little bigoted views about America and Americans most people on Earth hold nasty little bigoted views about everywhere else as well. True, the British can spare only a rare kind word for the producers of half the television and music they enjoy but try asking them about Japan or Australia or (shudder) France and you will soon discover the Americans do not hold a special place of enmity. In fact, if you can find me someone holding universally positive views of a particular nation or ethnicity I suspect you will it be the erstatz representative of some local fascism.

And before anyone gets defensive at my pointing to an American parochialism remember Canadians love almost nothing better than to point fingers at their uncosmopolitan southern neighbours. The problem being, of course, that Canada has even fewer neighbours than the States. If you are, say, Croatian and live in a crowded neighborhood with ill-tended fences it is impossible to imagine everyone is going to get on all the time. Canada, by contrast, shares borders with Denmark and France only through the remote accidents of colonial possession represented by Greenland and St. Pierre and Miquelon. Consequently, Canadians do not share America's naive optimism about the rest of the world, preferring instead to live under the delusion that everyone loves Canada.*

Note to Canadians: Everyone does not love Canada. Following Belgium, Canada is considered to be the most boring country on Earth** and, if it is thought of at all, it is as the uptight, underachieving and humourless*** version of the United States.**** Is any of this particularly fair? You be the judge. Though I have noticed nothing tends to bring out the scratch-the-surface jingoism of Canadians more than pointing out this sort of thing.

* This despite the fact we have managed to find ourselves in a military confrontation with one third of our contiguous neighbours. And no, it is not with those trigger-happy Americans or those easy-to-get-along-with French.
** Excepting Montreal.
*** Outraged list of famous Canadian comedians arriving in 4... 3... 2... Yes, there are some witty Canadians; they live and work in the United States. The rest of Canada's limited comedic output works on Air Farce, a show so ham-fisted and lame it makes Egyptian soap-opera look like Shakespeare. Rick Mercer is the exception that proves the rule, btw, so don't even go there.
**** Canadians like to point to our largely mythical role as peacekeepers. I have rarely encountered a better example of what Antonio Gramsci described as hegemonic ideology; a myth propagated in the interests of an established elite at complete variance with material fact.

At the Mountains of Madness

Guillermo del Toro and Matthew Robbins have reportedly managed to produce a working screenplay adaption of H.P. Lovecraft's masterpiece At the Mountains of Madness. This is no mean feat given the complexity and ambiguity of the original (hat tip to Montieth). A question of cyclopean dimensions presents itself: Will the project ever be realized for the silver screen?

Tones On Tail: Rain

With Susperia vid action... creepy! Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Sometimes I believe that this less material life is our truer life, and that our vain presence on the terraqueous globe is itself the secondary or merely virtual phenomenon

Gorthos kindly sent me a link to what is potentially the greatest and most satisfying time-waster since I ventured into Baldur's Gate. In fact, as a text-based on-line interactive rpg, the time-wasting potential of Lovecraft Country is practically incalculable by that fragile apparatus laughingly described as the human mind. I may not risk venturing into these dreamlands until my lottery schemes come to fruition.

By a strange coincidence I was chatting with a fellow this weekend who speculated that he was trapped in a Mythos role-playing game all unawares. I replied I had assumed this to be the case for myself since I first read Lovecraft at the age of fifteen. It seems to me the next iteration of Lovecraft Country should agree the parameters of an off-line version of the same process. Players would assume alternate identities and enroll in courses of study at whatever local college or university campus best approximates Miskatonic's gothic millieu. Mazes and Monsters was only a first step...

Great rugose cone Update: This H.P. Lovecraft story generator might come in handy.

When in Rome

A little lucre in the form of a Team Atia T-shirt from HBO's publicity machine is a nice gesture* though I should confess I was already planning to address this subject. Servilia is hard-core but as if there could be any doubt where my loyalties would lie: Atia of the Julii rules.

The Flea is not one to offer spoilers in place of informed comment. Suffice to say season one of Rome ended not so much on a cliff-hanger as on the knife's-edge** and season two has, if anything, become more brutal and excessive. O! Plus! Perge! Aio! Hui! Hem! Just remember: If you have called down a curse upon your loved ones take care before sealing the curse with an animal sacrifice. Hold off on that and you can always lift the curse later; no harm done.

* At least, it would be a nice gesture; I am still waiting on the T-shirt. FedEx, you suck. Your customer service is a joke and your management should be summarily "raped by dogs" no wait, Atia's advice does not apply here fired. Caesar si viveret, ad remum dareris. By contrast, Deep Focus has run an excellent campaign. Salve! But Deep Focus, if you are going to build a slow-loading, all Flash extravaganza to sell your product and enlist new media to put eyes on page you need to learn the following acronym: EPK. Try Googling a decent second season promo image in the 300-400 pixel-width range for, say, one of the two characters you are promoting. Seriously folks, it should not be this difficult to find a hot pic of Polly Walker. For example, here is an alarmingly acute comparison of Atia to her counterpart on The O.C.; no Flash required. Advantage: No budget Dutch internet forum. And for that free advice I am expecting a bus shelter size promo poster. Just do me a favour and send it by regular mail. Cum homine de cane debeo congredi.
** Etay utay Utebray?

L'objet transitionnel: Dansons avec Jacques Lacan

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Fight

These Canadian Forces recruiting videos have got exactly the right idea. Fight Fear. Fight Distress. Fight Chaos. Also, use a lot of jump cuts and FPS-style direction.

Ok, stuck on fighting Chaos. Leaving aside the Get Smart jokes, could there possibly be a more existential foe of all that is Canadian? Very well done.

Oh, it's a wonderful castle! Heathcliff, let's never leave it.

One of the joys of strolling through the referral logs is finding a blog I might not otherwise have come across. I believe BrontëBlog may have found the Flea through the equally enjoyable pursuit of search engine surfing for material. There is far too much at BrontëBlog for me to link. Suffice to say I am now on a quest for a Brontë Cheeseburger and am very curious about a promised Filipino Wuthering Heights. This quoted observation about the behaviour of French school-children in museums is spot on; one of the most shocking things I have ever seen was the yelling and laughter and cries of "Juifs!" amongst an unescorted party of the little monsters in the Holocaust section of the Imperial War Museum. But such memories are to see red.

A better train of thought leads to answering Agent Bedhead's question as to whether the Flea is more "Heathcliff or the more dashing and refined Edgar Linton". Upon reviewing Laurence Olivier as the former and David Niven as the latter in the 1939 adaptation the answer is clear. Whatever that might be, best leave Cathy to beset someone else with her prevarication and neuroses. There must be less irritating choices to be made in the County or off in a lucrative new life in America. A quick rule of thumb: When you hear the words "You could come back to me rich and take me away. Why aren't you my prince like we said long ago? Why can't you rescue me, Heathcliff?" it is time to run, not walk, for the nearest exit. Though, in fairness, given my "romantic" life has been considerably more tortuous than Heathcliff's I am in no position to be giving advice.

Cradle of Filth: Her Ghost in the Fog

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

You only live twice(ish)

Recursion is common problem amongst science heroes who have been around for awhile. Take James Bond, for instance. This sort of thing does not happen to me too often though I can tell you it gets more disconcerting the further I get along the timeline. Though in my case it isn't past iterations but previous regenerations, you understand.

The Spice must flow

Say you are an hegemonic power needing to conquer and hold a desert region. The most valuable commodity may be delicious oil free and fair elections the Spice whatever it is they have on Tattooine fresh water; without it you cannot sustain the Legions. What to do if there are no local moisture farmers* handy and the indigenous people(s) are proving to be a little too colourful to provide reliable directions to the local waterhole?**

Answer: Get the guys in the Imperial engineering divisions to come up with a vaporator!

Anyone curious about "George Lucas'" "original" description of the process may consult this passage from his "novel".

* This is the Anchorhead Story from Star Wars Episode IV, btw.
** What with the robust traditions of hostage-taking and snuff-film manufacture.

Olivia Newton-John: Xanadu

Take this Mordor! A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna míriel o menel aglar elenath! Now is the time at the Flea when we dance (hat tip to the Sad Old Goth).

I suggest you upgrade to at least a Class Twelve combat skin. Your current model only scans as a Class Two, which is ill suited for this kind of work.

Ostensibly the "first ballistic, full exoskeleton body suit of armor," Trojan is the brainchild of Troy Hurtubise hoping to power-up American and Canadian forces in Iraq and Afghanistan (hat tip to Babbling Brooks).

Loving Engadget's Halo references but a small word is in order about branding and connotative meaning. Pace my classical education, when I hear the word "Trojan" I do not think of the Odyssey let alone Master Chief; I think of prophylactics. Branding may prove to be the suit's Achilles Heel.

In Hoc Signo Vinces

DailyMotion hosts a documentary about the Knights Templar in five parts (parts one, two, three, four and five)*. While not terribly scholarly it nevertheless introduces the order without the conspiratorial bent lent to the subject by Rosslyn Chapel fantasists. And despite its connect-the-dots history it still manages to beg the question: Why are we dealing with the same problems centuries after the fact? Time to find the Gordian Knot and cut it.

There is a miserable bias to almost all contemporary discussion of the Crusades. It has got to the point I find it amusing to hear a documentary such as this describe the Templars as "the first multinational corporation" with all the sinister undertones such an epithet is meant to suggest. Better yet is the ominous droning music singaling Templar menace by contrast with romantic fluting as Saladin sprinkles rose-water to purify the liberated Dome of the Rock. One might stop to wonder just how Europe had managed to do without a professional standing army since the Romans and what might have been achieved had they not been forced to re-create one. Then as now the Templars were a reaction to an external contingency; not an inexplicable perversion of Christ's teachings.

* And, I suspect, a missing sixth part.

Within Temptation: Running Up That Hill

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Wait until you get to my teeth

Bond: You'll kill 60,000 people uselessly.
Goldfinger: Hahah. American motorists kill that many every two years.

Unveiled at the 2007 North American International Auto Show in Detroit: the Jaguar C-XF Concept. It is a beauty. The lads at the engineering centre in Coventry were obviously given a brief with the word "cat" featured somewhere prominently. MI6 has been tipped this is the model set to replace the Aston Martin DBS as Daniel Craig's motor in James Bond 22.

All very interesting. Though reading between the lines of the Jaguar publicity package MI6 has republished, and judging by the look of the beast, the XF strikes me as a better replacement for the XK than the S-Type. I notice the concept drops the "R" designation the turbocharged versions of the two earlier models... perhaps Ford's Q Branch has decided to include this gadget as standard.

Dannii Minogue: You Won't Forget About Me

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Scissor Sisters: I Don't Feel Like Dancin'

Now is the time at the Flea when we don't feel like dancing.

Knight of Swords

New Falcon Press is selling off some one-of-a-kind items... if the Flea's lottery winning investment scheme had paid off I would be purchasing Christopher Hyatt's Platinum Chaos Ring.

Also tempting: A hardbound limited second edition of The True and Invisible Rosicrucian Order by Paul Foster Case; from the library of Israel Regardie, no less. A snip at US$500!

If all else fails: Read the instructions

The Flea's commitment to learning by doing resulted in a nasty, peculiar blister on a first pass at lacing the twenty-hole Stompy Stomp Stomp Boots; a buttonhook would be a timely Victorian solution to the problem. Once I have tracked one down - and gained some confidence in my footing - I will explore a strange new world of shoe lacing methods. There is a temptation to go all hardcore for Double Cross Lacing and Double Helix Lacing has an Hermetic appeal but for my current purposes Riding Boot Lacing is almost certainly the most practical; unlike, for example, boots whose rationale was a Canadian winter. We have not seen much of one here as of yet.

Funker Vogt: Date of Expiration

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Art achieves a purpose which is not its own

Looking for a proper job? Sucker! Get the Canada Council to kick in 15-thousand Loonies and build yourself a giant Geostationary Banana Over Texas.

Angry, not angsty

Sick of being a whiney, mopey goth? Then own the dancefloor as an angry rivethead instead!

Now my Stompy Stomp Stomp Boots have arrived I am attempting to further acquaint myself with Rivethead lore. The Instant Rivethead Kit offers a variety of thoughts on the stompity stomp stomp effect that is Rivethead dancing* and a number of variations on the theme of stomping. Remember: You are not trying to pull spiderwebs off the ceiling.

My current life-quest is to master "Kung-Fu Overdrive":

Also worth special attention: rivethead haiku. Further thoughts on the expense of rivethead clothing - and the tricky distinction between rivetheads and cybergoths - include the intriguing assertion that Prada Sport makes the best rivetware. This strikes me as highly improbable but I am willing to be corrected. The Urban Dictionary continues the rivets - goth or not goth - debate.

* Which is under no circumstances to be confused with goth dancing. With respect to the latter, please note especially "With Catlike Tread" for exact details of the Flea-dance (hat tip to Mr. Taylor).

The Azoic: Conflict

Gotta work on that 2-step... Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Baghdad and dangerous to know

Ok, so he is at Fallujah Police Headquarters... Jundi is still too cute. Damn you, Bill Ardolino: Your citizen journalism has stolen my heart!

That crusty exoskeleton does not fool anyone, Bill. And a note to the British government: Once the public realizes this is all in aid of the defense and well-being of small dogs they will decide the Navy is worth keeping after all. Fair warning.

Wumpskate

Every second Monday of the month, 4645 and a half Venice Blvd. attracts a stranger sight that the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence: Wumpskate is Goth Industrial Rollerskating (hat tip to Agent Bedhead).

I cannot believe YouTube is letting me down on this one.

Wumpscut: Thorns

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

The Gothics

The Flea's time-traveling stingray pal, Ambrose, pointed out this '80s feature on the rather shadowy world of the Gothics. Spooky!*

* Early Siouxsie: Spookier!

Non-hegemonic

I dreamed I was at work and this shifty looking woman approached me with a questionnaire. Did I have any preconceptions about pandas?, she wanted to know. What, aside from the eating bamboo and smelling badly, you mean?, I suggested. After tortuously correcting me about my notion that pandas smell badly* she directed me to fill out a questionnaire, thrusting it under my nose.

Well, I am delighted to jump to such imperious behaviour provided it is from my betters but I had no idea who this woman was. Taking care not to reflexively take the out-thrust bit of paper quivering before me I smiled, looked at the paper, looked at her and asked what her relationship was to our organization. "I'm ager adut ent," she explained in some foreign gibberish.** Excuse me, I did not quite catch that... "I'm agra utant," she tried, a bit huffily this time.

Perhaps it was the puffiness around the eyes, the shabbiness of her attire or the slightly uplifted nose as if to suggest it was not pandas but I who was smelling. Perhaps it was some combination of the three. Whatever it was the translation microbes kicked in and I ejaculated with some satisfaction, You're a graduate student? This caused some shuffling and shame-facedness.*** The document drooped slightly in her hand as if indignance had been the only power to keep it aloft. I suddenly realized I would be delighted to have a look at the questionnaire. Let's see:

1. Hegemonic narrativisation of pandas in "natural" and non-"natural" environments recapitulates the subaltern position of resistance by the People of Nicaragua under the Reagan regime...

And that is as far as I got, I'm afraid. There were raccoons fighting somewhere in the yard and the racket was enough to wake me. Though I admit I was laughing out-loud as I came to and this might have had something to do with it. I considered googling "panda" and "hegemonic" before publishing this post. But probably best not to know.

* They have an excellent sense of smell, apparently. This was not quite what I was getting at but I did not argue the point because I realized I was thinking of koalas; those tree-rats are ripe with eucalyptus. For all I know, pandas smell like angel farts and cupcake accord.
** Flea-readers need not have the etymology of gibberish and algebra expounded upon at length here; the connection is ontological and of the class described by Newton as self-evident.
*** Quite right too.

Eric Prydz vs Pink Floyd: Proper Education

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Home alchemy kit

This Le Labo Olfactory Dictionary is a neat idea and I like the idea of conjuring up a cologne at Flea Towers. That said, I would have thought it would be less expensive to make a daily trip to Body Shop or its more authentic equivalents if one wanted to learn the difference between essential oils.

The daemon-sultan

Azathoth is an adaptation of a short but not insignificant piece from H.P. Lovecraft's eldritch oeuvre. YouTube comment is generally dissatisfied with the English-language narration. They have a point though, in fairness, the Azathoth is distinguished if anything by its clarity as much as its brevity so it is a poor choice to illustrate my little apologetic but there it is. The main thing, it seems it me, is to encourage more little films and discourage the febrile critics any more voice than the internet has afforded them.

Much more fun is this Mass Invocation of Azathoth, a Whisperers in Darkness rite performed at The Horse Hospital. No word on whether they managed to call up something they could not put down.

Dead Can Dance: Cantara

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

The fiction of H.P. Lovecraft

Best Mastermind subject ever. The Flea: Thirteen points. I thought Laura Campbell was enormously appealing until she claimed you could close the books and put away the horror; such is to entirely miss the point of the Mythos. Perhaps she was dissembling lest she reveal the abyssal wonders of nuclear chaos beyond angled space. She would have left the British viewing public gibbering in preterite dread instead of marveling at the cute accent.

Related: The best Lego set ever.

Jawas vs Nazis

The Force is strong in this mash-up.

Underworld: Rez

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

The law (way) east of the Pecos

This DefenseTech exclusive notes private militaries and embeds are now subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice. This thanks to an otherwise unremarked addition to the Pentagon's 2007 budget legislation, viz striking "war" and amending it to "declared war or a contingency operation".

I think it is six little words, actually, but such is to quibble. Let's hope Bill is paying attention; it looks like there is a marshal in Deadwood.

I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind

Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the other. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven; and if the wicked man in there, had not brought Heathcliff so low I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him; and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.

Surpassing Vampire: The Masquerade, the aptly named Phillippe Tromeur has created the sine qua non of romantigoth role-playing: Wuthering Heights. Now, if only I could find some victims players for a game. The rules look straightforward...

Oh, go on then, here's Kate Bush.

Fleur: Remont

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Frankenthumb

Frankenthumb is the first adaptation I have seen with a better ending than Mary Shelley's novel.*

* It is safe to assume you have all seen Thumb Wars.

Within Tempation: Memories

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.*

*Stand My Ground and Mother Earth and Never Ending also with the kicking of ass.

The old dog for a hard road

The Drink Soaked Trots explain that Newfoundland is winning the Taliban War. Rick Mercer's thoughts on his third trip to Afghanistan has the details. I am about to quote a funny bit but please read the whole thing; this deserves all the attention it can get.

Psalm 94:16-23

"Who will rise up for me against the evildoers? or who will stand up for me against the workers of iniquity? Unless the LORD had been my help, my soul had almost dwelt in silence. When I said, My foot slippeth; Thy mercy, O LORD, held me up. In the multitude of my thoughts within me Thy comforts delight my soul. Shall the throne of iniquity have fellowship with Thee, which frameth mischief by a law? They gather themselves together against the soul of the righteous, and condemn the innocent blood. But the LORD is my defence; and my God is the rock of my refuge. And He shall bring upon them their own iniquity, and shall cut them off in their own wickedness; yea, the LORD our God shall cut them off.”
- Psalm 94:16-23, KJV

Be it resolved

Be it resolved that I will do everything I resolved to do last year but more so. In addition, I will take special care to:

i - laugh more;
ii - love more;
iii - write more;
iv - dance more;
v - make more music;
vi - accept no substitutes;
vii - make bigger and better mistakes;
viii - once again fit in to my pvc trousers.

Happy new year, everybody.

Blonde ambitions Update: Paris Hilton reveals one of her resolutions. Strangely enough, I too am hoping to spend more time in hospital-related work.

Raccoon-botherer Update: Darcey of Dust My Broom has some admirable goals for 2007.

Rammstein: Keine Lust

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Fifty things

Fifty things we know now that we did not know last year. My favourite: No. 47.

That would be the Tsodila Hills, btw. And I expect Flea-readers will be all too familiar with the D'Ampton Worm.