Truth is cooler than fiction

A few months ago I read about a letter a former slave supposedly sent his former master in the South. Is was amazing but didn't seem quite right. It was almost too good to be true. But after a lot of research it appears to be true.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2174410/Pictured-The-freed-slave-moving-letter-old-master-asked-work-farm.html?ICO=most_read_module

"And just like that, he was gone..."

Tomorrow begins a new adventure to:

Africa, the Dark Continent.

 There can be no doubt that this is a schmaltzy line, but I don't care.Africa is a dramatic place. This trip represents a big leap for me. I would not dare to say that I have become jaded by travelling. But with age and experience I am a little more comfortable heading off to strange new places. I've come to see how people are usually pretty nice to other people no matter where you go. But Africa is different.  Charming will not keep you from being eaten in Africa.

I suppose that is why this trip will be so different. There won't be a lot of people to interact with at all. The group we are with will be very small. There are no ancient ruins or medieval architecture to explore. It is a place that has remained quite wild and untamed. It is a place of great political upheaval. It is a place where diseases unknown to us here run rampant still, killing tens of thousands. It is a land of crushing poverty and excessive greed as well as unspeakable beauty.

I technically did nothing...

and yet I am very tired. A literal stack of projects meets my gaze everywhere I look. My desk, in the garage, in the shop.

But today I ignored almost all of it. With the onset of an early spring Bag End has begun its annual growth spurt. All manner of vegetation, some friendly, some hostile, have begin to race for the sky. I have been on the mower it seems, every 20 minutes or so trying to keep the verge in check. But that always leaves the rough edges as it were. So yesterday and today was trimming day.

 With weed wacker and loping sheers I wandered the countryside. In my wake are piles of  limbs, weeds and thorn bushes. If there is a comfortable weed wacker I have never seen it. But when its done... ah.. well that makes it worth it.

I should have knuckled under and kept my nose to the grindstone. So much to do. Ren faire coming up. Repacking, organizing, restocking. And yet I feel not one whit of guilt for spending the day outside. I am covered in millions of little gobbets of green gore and scratches but I came by them honestly. I'm tired but I think it the best kind of tired.

Well THAT'S a first...

So there I was, cruising along on Facebook when BAM, suddenly there's a picture of looks like a dead baby. Wow. Pretty goddamn graphic. Along with the image in a short note about how a friend had miscarried a child at about that age and they had mourned. Then there was the obligatory "Please share if you want  to stop abortion".

The image had just been posted and there were no comments. I looked at the name and it wasn't very familiar. I think it was someone I had just friend-ed through mutual acquaintanceship. Suddenly the following image came to mind:

So I cracked my knuckles and fired off a reply. It touched on several subjects such as how making abortion illegal would not stop abortion, only make it more dangerous (and thus risking lives).  I mentioned that many people do not want a child or don't have the resources to raise a child, which might mean that are pretty miserable for most of their lives.  I  also touched on the hypocrisy of wanting to send doctors who perform abortions to jail, while saying that the mother should not (this is a common belief of abortion opponents).

I also discussed how my mother had been involved with public health in the suburbs of Michigan, where abortion (and sex ed) was widely reviled yet these same mothers would bring their own daughters for the procedure.

Because all abortion is wrong, except for their abortion.

I posted my rant and then want off to eat dinner. When I came back I was surprised to see no replies to the post. There was a message from the woman who posted it. She said she removed the post because "facebook should be for happy things".

I sighed. Yes, it was nice that the picture was gone. But she seemed to miss what I was doing. Facebook doesn't have to be only for "happy things". It's a place for all kinds of things. Good and bad. In the past year friends have posted about relationships beginning and ending. Great joy and great sadness. Health scares, injuries, business ups and downs.  It's been a slug fest of vastly differing opinions on many different subjects. And that's what I like.

I wrote back and told her that while I disagreed with her position, she shouldn't be afraid to express it. There's a saying that people should discuss religion or politics at parties. I could not disagree more.  I don't go to as many parties as I used to. So I don't get to engage in debate as much.That's a shame because they can be a blast (just make sure  everyone keeps it civil and you hide the knives) Luckily Facebook is there, in all it's glory. From pictures of kittens to vocal Christians. From  freethinkers to gun lovers. All of it blurted out in one place, like a big noisy party. A party where people keep poking you and asking you for shit to make their farm better).

A long string of crazy

Watching the Republican candidates on tv is getting to be an exercise futility. There are no new ideas, only the same bleating about taxes and regulation. None of the candidates hold my interest at all. Ron Paul, the only one with some sane ideas, is overshadowed by his crazy ideas about getting rid of the EPA and going back to the gold standard. Oy.

The great thing about it is that Americans are starting to see these guys a little more clearer now. And what do we see? Another batch of rich white guys. Seriously, Mitt Romney is worth 200 million. How can a man this rich say he understands the working class, the "average Joe". He comes from money, and he has tons of money. He gives some of his money to charity. I respect that. It's the Mormon church, I respect that less. So he's a rich guy with magic underwear.

Newt? Good god that man is repugnant. He is the ugly American. He is loud and unashamed of anything he says (or does). Hey, people get divorced. Ok. Sometimes more than once. But the stories about his behavior during these divorces? Remember McCain? He was a charmer too. Comes back from Nam to a wife who is no longer pretty and its off to the rodeo to find a new trophy wife.

These guys just give me the creeps.

I don;t think Obama is perfect. There are many things he has done that go against the grain of a progressive. Guantanamo still open? The NDAA? Cracking down on medical marijuana? But he's also make a lot of good moves.

With no real third party I believe I'll be voting to Obama again. Now all  have to do is survive the camaign season and the elections.  That should be fun.

An awkward moment...

Here's a short read. It details Mitt Romney sitting down at a restaurant after noticing a mans Vietnam Vet hat. It should have been a quick photo and press the flesh op. What transpires is a wonderfully refreshing moment of honesty showing how Romney, like the rest of the Republican candidates, will never consider letting gays have equal rights.

Why? Because ," I think at the time the Constitution was written it was pretty clear that marriage is between a man and a woman"


That's it.

To Mitt and other's of his ilk, anything that wasn't okay at the time of the writing of the Constitution is just WRONG. Period. I'd like to you think about that position for a moment. Can we see the flaw in that argument?

Here are some things that were just peachy at the time of the writing of the Constitution:

• Slavery 
• Women not having the right to vote 
• Blacks and whites being able to marry 
• Blacks being able to vote 
• Women serving in the military 

And remember all that "States rights" bullshit they keep spouting? That baaaaad bad federal gub'mint? Well they were okay with states settling gay rights up until they thought they could get the brass ring of the White House. Now? Federal Law must be used to stop Teh Ghays.

The constitution isn't a perfect document. That's why we've had amendments to it. We, as a country, have grown and changed. We will never go back to that non-existant Reagan wet-dream past where Coke was a nickel and those uppity minorities could be beaten or ignored.

Take a look, you knuckle dragging neanderthals. This battle is not going to go your way. So why are you spending SO MUCH time, money and effort dragging this out and making everyone's lives miserable?

Coolest. Toy. EVAR>

http://www.wimp.com/coolesttoy/

There's a huge fucking difference...

Scott Olson the young former Marine who was shot in the head with a teargas grenade is doing better. He has a fractured skull and brain swelling. He may need surgery. He can communicate only with a notepad right now, but will likely live.

It's looking more and more like the was not an accident. The flash grenade that was thrown into the group that was trying to help him certainly wasn't. In looking at footage of the march it appears to me that the protesters were peaceable. This didn't have to happen. It was the police who ratcheted up the pressure, who escalated the situation.

In looking over various blogs I noticed that several right wing outlets are saying that Olsen created a website called ihatethemarinecorps.com. They point to the OWS and liberals and shout "your 'War Hero' hated the Marines!" and by extension, he hated his country. The hate is thick over there. While the site no longer exists I could easily believe that Scott might have created this site. At first, it might appear that Scott is being turned into a political pawn by the left and OWS in the same way that Pat Tilman was used to sell the War on Terror.

But there are some huge fucking differences here. I haven't read anything from ANYONE in OWS calling him a hero, only that he served two tours in Iraq and was part a group called Veterans for Peace. People are outraged that a young man who attended a peaceful rally, exercising his constitutional rights was assaulted by the police of his own country. People are upset by the irony and injustice of this. Pat Tilman, on the other hand, was killed by friendly fire. The incident was officially covered up, and then the White House and Pentagon prostituted his memory with flag drenched ceremonies and called his death a noble sacrifice for God and country, which is amazing considering he was killed by his fellow soldiers and was an atheist.

 It's possible that Scott truly hated the Marine Corps and the War by the time he left the service. And you know what? That is his goddamn right. That doesn't make him a traitor or a bad person. His experiences with a war that didn't have to happen and the military machine used to fight it left him angry. This somehow makes his service and sacrifice unworthy in the eyes of his critics. To them, he is scum. John Kerry got the same treatment. It didn't matter that he actually went and fought in the war. He disagreed with America's foreign policy. He saw that Vietnam was a waste of young American lives and protested against it.That somehow made him a coward. To these people it is impossible to love your country but still hate the things it does.

Winter is coming, and with the cold and snow the protesters may go away, but the anger with the way things are run certainly won't. I wish that our leaders would pull their heads out of their collected asses and try to work together. But I'm not holding my breath.

Not bad, just not great.

I just finished the video Game Dead Island. It wasn't bad but it certainly didn't live up to all the hype. Some of the highlights were (of course) offing zombies in a variety of ways. From axes and machetes to driving over them with an armored car (he he). The environments looked very nice. Large and open. Lots of details. You could wander around for days I suppose.

 But the drawbacks kept me from really enjoying the game. The inventory system was pretty rough. And selecting weapons was an exercise if frustration. In almost every other game I can use the scroll wheel to select another weapon, or use the number keys. Not so here. Of course, there are a LOT of different weapons. And they can be modified with stuff you find around the island. Except that I found waaaaay too much of some stuff and not enough of what i needed to make many mods.  Also, weapons  decay pretty fast with use and you have to constantly repair them. Even something as simple as an axe becomes useless after taking out a dozen undead. Really?

Lots of the elements in the game were also in use in FarCry 2 which I played a while back. But where FarCry 2 was awesome and very immersive, Dead Island constantly took you out of the game. To select upgrades, to look at the map, to check quests. And for a brand new game the faces weren't very expressive. Maybe half of the characters looked any good. The voice acting wasn't bad though.

The game is unique because you can drop in and out of cooperative play. With more people, you have more firepower, and more zombies. But upon completing quests there's usually a bit of story line material. Sadly, anyone in the group can push a button and skip this. That's annoying. You don't need to hear this exposition, but again, it helps the feel of the game. As with many games, there were several escourt missions where you have to get another character from point A to point B alive. This is where some of the roughest edges showed up. At one point, facing a large group of zombies I threw a Molotov cocktail to make my life easier. My escourtee then runs right into the group and sets themselves on fire. Wow. Also, while early side quests could be taken or ignored, when you get near the finale you are on a pretty narrow rail with few choices.

I think with another few months of testing and polishing this game could have been better. It has a fun concept. It's solid. Just not quite soup yet.

The turn of the tide...

Damn you facebook! I find it very difficult to post here when it's so easy to fire off a quick link of pithy note. If they allowed longer posts I might abandon blogging entirely, as so many other have done. Google plus allows long posts, but it doesn't feel quite right. Something is off and I can't put my finger on it.

Anyway...

I'm thinking of going to New York to join the Occupy Wall Street protests. It seems to be gaining momentum, not slowing. Of course, Winter is approaching. I can't see this lasting long after the first snowfall. And what exactly are the demands of this movement? They are many I'll grant you. Even if some kind of miracle occurred and Wall Street could somehow capitulate to this movement, what would we ask of them? And yet I still feel a need to be a part of this. I want the multinationals, the global banks and our elected leaders to know that I am right pissed. I don't want to take their money by force. I do not want them destroyed. I want the government to stop letting banks continue to create and profit from convoluted and risky financial instruments. I want banks to be responsible lenders. I want strong oversite of these weasels. I'd like the wealthiest 1% of Americans and the multinationals to pay a little more in taxes. I'd like our government to stop attacking labor unions.

That's it.
I don't want to overthrow capitalism. I don't want to eat the rich. I don't want to destroy banks.I do not want to become part of an angry mod. I'd just like to see some goddamn common sense at the higher levels of business and government. Looking at that sentence I can see that this could be a long wait. I suppose that's why I want to go. I want to help push things along. I want to stir the pot.  I want to make people think. I want to rattle some cages.

On the other hand, I do NOT want to get maced or beaten with a baton or arrested. Is this movement worth the risk of those things?

A hell of a balancing act.

Right now I am really struggling to keep my brain from assploding. This season has been a pretty good one, but things can change pretty quick. Right now, I am facing a critical lack of shit to sell. I ordered stuff. I ordered a LOT of stuff. Stuff I PAID for. Stuff that was supposed to get to me in a timely manner. But that shit isn't happening.

 So I wait. In the mean time I loose a minion who I was counting on. Another minion seems to have forgotten that she committed to working for me and seems to be wandering off like a toddler with ADD. Seriously, what the fuck? I call an old worker who says she can help. Great. I need to know what dates are a problem. A goddamn WEEK passes. We live in the fucking information age. How hard is it to look up your schedule?

My blood pressure starts to skyrocket. Then I see that friends of mine was in an accident coming back from Dragon Con. They are ok. This is good. It easily could have gone very bad. I go outside and start mowing the lawn. The air is cool, not the 90-something of the past week. I clear my head. There are more important things. I calm down. I'm still pissed. I'm still backed up with shit to do. But I will force myself to chill out a little and try to keep some perspective.

Like a barren desert.

So long since posting... Face book and now on Google+ (which doesn't seem to have as many functions as facebook. No events? No instant messaging in the app?  I don't think anyone I know is still blogging.

So alone...

Anyway. Back from Pennsic and other events and eager to get into the shop to do some cool stuff. I just need some time to do it. I did try today. The mower ran out of gas but the van needed to be unloaded and then reloaded. I got out to the shop for a little while, but then I remembered I had to get some paperwork done and pay sales tax to Indiana. Always fun that.

Spent 1/2 an hour trying to find some bronze bits I bought at Pennsic with no luck. Crap, I better unpack that shipment of skirts and get rid of those shipping boxes.  Hey! There's those CD's I bought from that funny guy! Oops, time for dinner. Wow, we recorded a lot of stuff while we were gone.

Productivity= 0

Of well, tomorrow is another day.

An uncomfortable feeling.

I'm playing a new game called Far Cry 2. Unlike Massive Multiplayer games like World of Warcraft or First Person shooters this game has a HUGE open world and no rigid plot. You can go wherever you want. Despite the game being a few years old its still gorgeous. And the developers did a great job of keeping the game mechanics hidden. No heads up displays. To look at the map you physically pull out a map. Same with getting in and out of cars. All smoothly animated. It helps keep the world feeling real. There's changing weather and cycles of day and night. If you are injured you have to stop and perform first aid on yourself.

  And while all that is great I'm having a hard time continuing the game. It's set in a fictional African Nation in a brutal civil war. I've been sent in to kill "The Jackal". A shadowy arms dealer supplying both factions. But in the process of gathering intel I am forced to work with both factions doing fairly horrible things. Destroying important infrastructure, assassinating citizens and political leaders. Yes, some of them are corrupt, but others...who can tell?  Arms dealers hire me to knock off competition. An occasional phone call from a faceless voice sends me off to kill someone without any context of who they are.There seems to be an underground attempting to get people out of the way of the fighting, but helping them does nothing to slow the conflict.

 Yes, it's just a game.  I've killed thousands of mutants, aliens, zombies and faceless soldiers in other games. This is different. The militias wear no uniforms. Mercenaries roam the countryside.  They speak in thick South African accents and seem to delight in the conflict and the money they are making. (The local currency is uncut diamonds, another nod to an all too bloody reality of Africa) It all strikes a little too close to reality.  I'm not very keen to keep going on missions for these thugs that are partnered with or controlled by foreign mercenaries.

It's Deja Vu all over again.

It seemed a little odd getting a call from my father. We had talked only a few days ago. He seemed up and chipper. We chatted about this and that. Then he let me know that he's had another motorcycle accident. You may recall that last year, en route to Bag End, my Dad dropped the bike and broke his clavicle. It also messed up the bike quite a bit. He's spent mush of the year tinkering with it and has been riding again over the past few weeks.

 He was riding with another Pacific Coast rider when the guy in front stopped at a yellow and Dad had to hit the brakes suddenly. He stopped fine, but  the bike tipped and when he put his leg out to stop the 700 pound bike from going over, he broke his ankle.

He'll be laid up for 6 weeks. The bike took a few nicks again. Our respective wives have engaged in some gratuitous eye rolling. There is some distinct muttering, My Dad is 73. Should he be riding at his age? Are his reflexes up tot he task? Last year I said "No problem". Everyone who rides WILL have an accident (likely several). This is a FACT.Having an accident in a car doesn't mean you stop driving does it?

 But I cannot help but be a little worried. Time robs of of our facilities by inches. At 73 you just don't bounce back from injuries. Maybe he should listen to assorted friends and relatives, play it safe and give it up.

Or maybe everyone can just shut their mouth. The man has been riding for decades. On all kinds of bikes. That's an ass load of experience. I won't be the one to tell him to stop doing something he loves. It's possible continuing to ride will kill him. I'd be especially depressed if the accident that ends his live hurts others. But having just watched my wife's father meekly shuffle off the mortal coil I would argue that anything is better than "the straw death" as the Vikings called it.

Suck with a side of suck.

The cool thing about having a blog is that you can vent your spleen and save thousands on therapists or lawyers fees. It's been a while since I've posted but, y'know, I've been busy and shit. Working...and stuff. And then there's the dreaded facebook, which makes it so easy to just toss out a quick line or pithy statement or link. No depth.

Anyhoo I'm getting ready for MarCon. Rossana will be at Virginia. Both shows are going to suffer because I'm low on corset stock. I shouldn't be. But I am. Once again my supplier has dropped the fucking ball. Admittedly, I dropped a huge order on him. But I did it 6 weeks ago. And what do I have so far? Seven corsets. Seven.

Calls were make, some bad language was used. Excuses were made. Yadda yadda yadda. I'm sick of it. I want my stock. I want to be able to sell corsets. I'm pretty good at it, but I can't sell what I don't have. Luckily about half our sales come from smaller, non-corset items now. Thanks the gods. If I had to rely solely on high end corsets I'd be in a world of hurt.

So to beef up my supply of non corset stuff I spent the last two weeks in the shop with my friend Tony working hard. Any time the rain let up I'd try to get out and clean up the yard. Stuff got made, but not as much as I'd like. I also haven't had time to make any new stuff. Maybe next week. I so want to learn leather tooling.

With luck and hard work we'll make some sales this weekend. Also training up 2 new temp minions. I need people I can call on to help at shows if needed like this weekend. Both are great girls so i think it will work out well.