Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This

Remember when you ran away and I got on my knees and begged you not to leave because I'd go berserk?? Well...
You left me anyhow and then the days got worse and worse and now you see I've gone completely out of my mind.. And..
They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!!
They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-haaa
To the funny farm. Where life is beautiful all the time and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats and they're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!!!!!

You thought it was a joke and so you laughed, you laughed when I had said that losing you would make me flip my lid.. RIGHT???
I know you laughed, I heard you laugh, you laughed you laughed and laughed and then you left, but now you know I'm utterly mad... And..

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa,
They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-haaa.
To the happy home. With trees and flowers and chirping birds and basket weavers who sit and smile and twiddle their thumbs and toes and they're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!!!

I cooked your food, I cleaned your house, and this is how you pay me back for all my kind unselfish loving deeds.. Huh??
Well you just wait, they'll find you yet and when they do they'll put you in the ASPCA, you mangy mutt!!! And...

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa.
They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-haaa.
To the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time and I'll be happy
to see those nice young men in their clean white coats and they're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!!!
To the happy home, with trees and flowers and chirping birds and basket
weavers who sit and smile and twiddle their thumbs and toes and they're coming to take me away, ha-haa!!!
To the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time... (fade out)

Hey, buddy!
Yes officer..
You a head?
No, but I'm catching up, ha ha ha....

Effin' Irene

Katrina, Irene, food and I get another fifteen picoseconds of fame.

A Look Ahead

The space program is dead, long live the space program! I'm hoping that this video becomes more than just another lost dream.

Vinge

Via SF Signal, a video with Vernor Vinge. New book coming soon (not soon enough).

Two Points

A pale blue and a pale silver dot. Earth and Moon as seen from the receding Juno spacecraft.

Old Myke Cole

Myke Cole is a new author in the SF/F field. I've gotten to know him via SF Signal and "tweets". Here's an interview with him on his background and his forthcoming novel. Can't wait!

Review Policy Redux

Since it is being ignored, please see this finely crafted link for this blog's review policy.

I felt the need to repost since I received a request for a review last night. A book which stated...

The Future Perfect is a dystopian satire of the future. A funny and provocative look at things to come. For anyone, sci-fi fan or not, who likes to explore and laugh at the absurdity of human existence. It has been likened to Brave New World, and the writings of Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams, Philip K. Dick, Isac Asimov and Margrett Atwood.

What is wrong with this picture? Folks, if you're going to send out blurbs and requests for reviews and claim relationship with icons in the field...maybe you should spell the names correctly?

Hard to Port

Recent discovery in Merry Olde Englande. Roman port. Maybe rum and ale as well? With a clash of the sword-on-shield to Doc John.

Melding the Mind!

Another fifteen picoseconds of fame! My contribution to the latest SF Signal Mind Meld can be found by clicking this carefully crafted link.

The Young Heinlein

Jo Walton on the Heinlein "juveniles" . Sans one, I have a complete (origina) run with dustjackets.

Naked Mole Rap

(Hit it!)
Yo', listen up, have a howler from Ron.
'Naked Mole Rap' is the name of the song. (Word!)
Here's a story in all it's glory.
Ain't hidin' nothin', don't know what the truth is how Ron met Rufus.
Never heard a cat bark,
Never heard a puppy purr,
My dad's allergic to every kind of fur.
So I surfed for hairless pets on the internet,
Saw a jpeg of a pink thing...
Gonna need sunscreen!

What is that? That freaky thing?
(Yes, that's right, it's the naked mole rat.)
Come on y'all, let the girlies sing!
(Listen to the naked mole rap!)
Uh huh! What is that? That freaky thing?
(Yes, that's right, it's the naked mole rat.)
Hey, wait, I can't hear the girls sing!
(Listen to the naked mole rap!)

I heard'a Smartie Mart was havin' a sale on a hairless pink rodent with a long skinny tail.
(That's me!)
It seemed to be this good be a solution,
The perfect pet for my dad's sensitive constitution!
So the manager came to open the cage,
He said, "You know this pet's hairless?"
I said, "I couldn't care less!"
Handed him to me, said, "Be careful don't drop it, and do you want this cage?"
"No, i'll keep him in my pocket!"
(Yay-hay!)

What is that? That freaky thing?
(Yes, that's right, it's the naked mole rat.)
Come on y'all, let the girls sing!
(Listen to the naked mole rap!)
(Oh yeah!)
What is that? That freaky thing?
(Yes, that's right, it's the naked mole rat.)
Gonna buy me some bling-bling!
(Listen to the naked mole rap!)
(...Ooh, super freaky!)

Guitar baby! Uh! What are we missin' here?
(Rufus, the naked mole rat!)
Can I get a boo-yah?
(Boo-yah!)
Oh, can I get a boo-yah?
(Boo-yah!)
Look at the camera, say, "Cheese!"
(Cheese!)
Smile for the camera say, "Cheese!"
Can I get a boo-yah?
(Boo-yah!)
Oh, can I get a boo-yah?
(Boo-yah!)
Look at the camera, say, "Cheese!"
(Cheese!)
I'd smile for the camera say, "Cheese!"

We've heard of Bueno Nacho, chimerito and a naco.
Always grande size it. Why not? I'm buyin'!
Rufus in my pocket, you can't stop it, can't top it,
Don't drop it, you might just pop it!
Rufus and Ron Stoppable with our best friend: Kim Possible.
We're not afraid of any attack.
I say "Yo, KP, we've got your back!"
(Hai-yah!)

What is that? That freaky thing?
(Yes, that's right, it's the naked mole rat.)
Come on y'all, let the girlies sing!
(Listen to the naked mole rap!)
What is that? Super freaky thing!
(Yes, that's right, it's the naked mole rat.)
Come on y'all, let those girlies sing!
(Listen to the naked mole rap!)

Yeah! This ain't no, no freak-o!
Yeah that's right, it's the naked mole rap!
This ain't no, no disco!
Come on y'all, it's the naked mole rap!
This ain't no, no chico/Shego!
Yeah, that's right, it's the naked mole rap!
This ain't no, no wrong-o!
Come on y'all it's the naked mole rap.
Listen to the naked mole rat!
(Muah! buh-bye, buh-bye, buh-bye, buh-bye...)

"Lithium Flower" ("Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex" Closing Track)

She's so cold and human
It's something humans do
She stays so golden solo

She's so number nine
She's incredible math
Just incredible math
And is she really human?

She's just so something new
A waking lithium flower
Just about to bloom
I smell lithium now
Smelling lithium now

How is she when she doesn't surf?
How is she when she doesn't surf?
How is she when she doesn't surf?
I wonder what she does when she wakes up?
When she wakes up

So matador
So calm
So oil on a fire
She's so good

She's so goddess lithium flower
So sonic wave
Yeah, she's so groove, yeah
She's so groove

Yeah
Wow, where did she learn how to surf?
Wow, where did she learn how to surf?
Wow, where did she learn how to surf?

You know I've never seen the girl wipe out
How does she so perfectly surf?
How does she so perfectly surf?
How does she so perfectly surf?
I wonder what she does when she wakes up?

I wanna go surfing with her
I wanna go surfing with her
I wanna go surfing with her
I wanna go surfing with her

Now THIS Is Good Politics

This from the UK Parliament a while ago:

"Mr James Arbuthnot (North East Hampshire) (Con): On the defence relationship with France to which my right hon. Friend referred, is he aware that I have forgiven the French for taking off the head of my great-great-great-great grandfather at Trafalgar? Does he agree that the treaty that he will be signing tomorrow with President Sarkozy needs to contain real concrete arrangements to improve defence co-operation between our two countries?

The Prime Minister: I am extremely glad that my right hon. Friend has forgiven the French, as I think he is joining me for lunch with President Sarkozy tomorrow—it might have been a little bit frosty. "

Review and Posting Policy

And now a word from...me!

I'm averaging 2-3 review requests here. A few thoughts. First, take a look at the books I read and review. Amish Romance Fiction? Seriously? Folks, why would I even consider reviewing such a thing? When have I ever written about the subject?

Second, you'd be better served sending your request for somebodhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gify to review your book to a bigger site such as SF Signal or Functional Nerds. I only do an occasional review for the bigger sites, but the bigger sites have a lot of volunteers to read incoming books so your chances of getting a review up there are far greater.

Third, I'm just one person. This is my personal blog. I only review books here that I purchase personally as I know the author, or like his/her books, or the cover catches my eye, etc. So, thanks for the submissions and requests and like, but this is not the blog you are looking for.

Fourth, an addition: I have only had one guest posting, a special request from a friend. And while I did post a couple of excerpts from a book, again, it was a request from a friend. I am not interested in entertaining requests to write postings, tune my blog, blah, blah, blah. Thanks, but no thanks.

ENDEAVOUR APPROACHING!

MER Opportunity, still going way past its "90 day mission", approaches Endeavour Crater.

...and Later?

"We've left blood in the dirt of twenty-five worlds,
we've built roads on a dozen more,
and all that we have at the end our hitch,
buys a night with a second-class whore.

"The Senate decrees, the Grand Admiral calls,
the orders come down from on high,
It's 'On Full Kits' and sound 'Board Ships,'
We're sending you where you can die.

"The lands that we take, the Senate gives back,
rather more often than not,
so the more that are killed, the less share the loot,
and we won't be back to this spot.

"We'll break the hearts of your women and girls,
we may break your arse as well,
Then the Line Marines with their banners unfurled,
will follow those banners to Hell.

"We know the devil, his pomps and his works,
Ah yes! we know them well!
When we've served out our hitch as Line Marines,
we can bugger the Senate of Hell!

"Then we'll drink with our comrades and lay down our packs,
we'll rest ten years on the flat of our backs,
then it's 'On Full Kits' and 'Out of Your Racks,'
you must build a new road through Hell!

"The Fleet is our country, we sleep with a rifle,
no one ever begot a son on his rifle,
they pay us in gin and curse when we sin,
there's not one that can stand us unless we're down wind,
we're shot when we lose and turned out when we win,
but we bury our comrades wherever they fall,
and there's none that can face us though we've nothing at all."

...and Now...

When you’re lying alone in your Afghan bivvy,
And your life it depends on some MOD civvie
When the body armour’s shared (one set between three),
And the firefight’s not like it is on TV,
Then you’ll look to your oppo, your gun and your God,
As you follow that path all Tommies have trod.

When the gimpy has jammed and you’re down to one round,
And the faith that you’d lost is suddenly found.
When the Taliban horde is close up to the fort,
And you pray that the arty don’t drop a round short.
Stick to your sergeant like a good squaddie should,
And fight them like satan or one of his brood

Your pay it won’t cover your needs or your wants,
So just stand there and take all the Taliban’s taunts
Nor generals nor civvies can do aught to amend it,
Except make sure you’re kept in a place you can’t spend it.
Three fifty an hour in your Afghani cage,
Not nearly as much as the minimum wage.

Your missus at home in a foul married quarter
With damp on the walls and a roof leaking water
Your kids miss their mate, their hero, their dad;
They’re missing the childhood that they should have had
One day it will be different, one day by and by,
As you all stand there and watch, to see the pigs fly

Just like your forebears in mud, dust and ditch
You’ll march and you’ll fight, and you’ll drink and you’ll bitch
Whether Froggy or Zulu, or Jerry, or Boer
The Brits will fight on ‘til the battle is over.
You may treat him like dirt, but nowt will unnerve him
But I wonder sometimes, if the country deserves him.

Then...

When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
So-oldier OF the Queen!

Now all you recruities what's drafted to-day,
You shut up your rag-box an' 'ark to my lay,
An' I'll sing you a soldier as far as I may:
A soldier what's fit for a soldier.
Fit, fit, fit for a soldier . . .

First mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts,
For they sell you Fixed Bay'nets that rots out your guts --
Ay, drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts --
An' it's bad for the young British soldier.
Bad, bad, bad for the soldier . . .

When the cholera comes -- as it will past a doubt --
Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout,
For the sickness gets in as the liquor dies out,
An' it crumples the young British soldier.
Crum-, crum-, crumples the soldier . . .

But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead:
You must wear your 'elmet for all that is said:
If 'e finds you uncovered 'e'll knock you down dead,
An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier.
Fool, fool, fool of a soldier . . .

If you're cast for fatigue by a sergeant unkind,
Don't grouse like a woman nor crack on nor blind;
Be handy and civil, and then you will find
That it's beer for the young British soldier.
Beer, beer, beer for the soldier . . .

Now, if you must marry, take care she is old --
A troop-sergeant's widow's the nicest I'm told,
For beauty won't help if your rations is cold,
Nor love ain't enough for a soldier.
'Nough, 'nough, 'nough for a soldier . . .

If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath
To shoot when you catch 'em -- you'll swing, on my oath! --
Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er: that's Hell for them both,
An' you're shut o' the curse of a soldier.
Curse, curse, curse of a soldier . . .

When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck,
Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck,
Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck
And march to your front like a soldier.
Front, front, front like a soldier . . .

When 'arf of your bullets fly wide in the ditch,
Don't call your Martini a cross-eyed old bitch;
She's human as you are -- you treat her as sich,
An' she'll fight for the young British soldier.
Fight, fight, fight for the soldier . . .

When shakin' their bustles like ladies so fine,
The guns o' the enemy wheel into line,
Shoot low at the limbers an' don't mind the shine,
For noise never startles the soldier.
Start-, start-, startles the soldier . . .

If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:
So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier . . .

When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
So-oldier of the Queen!

"These Are My People"

Randy sits down and watches Amy watching the nerds play their game. He thought he'd hit bottom in Whitman, out there on the parking lot, that surely she would get scared and fleet. But this is potentially worse. A bunch of tubby guys who never go outside, working themselves into a frenzy over elaborate games in which nonexistent characters go out and do pretnd thengs that mostly are not as interesting as what Amy, her father, and various other members of her family do all the time without making any fuss about it. It is almost like Randy is deliberately hammering away at Amy trying to find out when she'll break and run. But her lip hasn't started to writhe nauseously yet. She's watching the game impartially, peeking over the nerds' shoulders, following the action, occasionally squinint at some abstraction in the rules.

(Neal Stephenson, Cryptonomicon)

The Agony Column

"He took down the great book in which, day by day, he filed the agony columns of the various London journals. "Dear me!" said he, turning over the pages, "what a chorus of groans, cries, and bleatings! What a rag-bag of singular happenings! But surely the most valuable hunting-ground that ever was given to a student of the unusual!"

(Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Red Circle)

Main Belt

Hey, kids. We're orbiting an asteroid. How cool is that?

Triplet

Triplets in Leo. Astronomical wonders all.

M551A1

C-130 Rollin' Down the Strip

C-130 rollin' down the strip
Airborne tanker on a one way trip
Mission Top Secret, destination unknown
They don't even know if they're ever coming home
When my plane gets up so high
Paratroopers take to the skies

Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door
My knees got weak and I hit the floor
Jumpmaster picked me up with ease
Tossed my knees into the breeze

Count one-thousand, two-thousand, three-thousand, four
My main opened with a mighty roar
But if my main don't open wide
I got a reserve by my side
But if that one should fail me too
Look out below I'm a-comin' through

If I die on the old drop zone
Box me up and ship me home
Pin my wings upon my chest
And then bury me in the leaning rest

Well if I die on a Chinese hill
Take my watch or the commies will
But if I die in the Korean mud
Bury me with a case of Bud

A Reading from the Book of Bruce the Eldar

After the schism and the reformation, we went to a 17 day monthly cycle. But things kept getting increasingly out of whack with both the lunar and solar cycle, so we went back to the old month and the old year. Did that mean we went back to worshipping the sun and the moon? No, not at all. Sometimes you can't fool nature.

The Secrets of Literary Success

Here you go, the secret of great genre fiction, freely given away! To write a really great work of genre fiction, mix in the following four elements. Shake well. Print and send off to publisher. Collect checks and retire. Done!

(1) Pirates
(2) Ninjas
(3) Zombies
(4) Zeppelins