doing the robot...

I was, in fact, standing in the kitchen doing the robot, but as exciting as it is depicted in this drawing, I was alone, pop-locking and concerned my neighbors would see me, considering my front door was open.

Where are the nukes ?

Okay, so I usually blog about self centric existential whiny baloney, but today we're straying from the path. You say to yourself "oh Christ, finally!" I know, I know, this is the moment you've been waiting for through the nearly one hundred posts I've made to this blog. I'm sure you're going to be thrilled...

I am a huge fan of the television show, Battlestar Galactica. I'm sure many of you are. Some aren't because it's Science Fiction, and any right thinking mature adult would never watch Science Fiction, but they are above such childish nonsense. Or maybe they're just insecure. But enough insults for the neophytes...

The show has just began it's third season, and is better than ever. This is, in my opinion, the boldest television show I've ever seen. I'd liken it to the Soprano's when they arrived on the television scene. The human drama in BSG picks up where Soprano's left off. While Soprano's dealt with very personal details in a few people's lives, BSG does the same and adds to that the larger struggle of an entire society uprooted through a holocaust, trying to find order out of chaos, fighting fear of the unknown and fleeing before certain destruction at the cold metal hands of the Cylons.

The writing on this show is at the top of it's field. The writers never shy from making hard choices in their writing, many times having to face serious situations they've painted themselves into, killing a major characters, forcing these people to make hard choices they never thought they'd face, becoming idealists or murders under situations that leave them little choice, and we get to see them struggle with the dark consequences...

Alright, so I can't say enough to build this show up upon some Babylonian pedestal, but the big point I need to make in this blog is...

(This is spoiler material if you haven't seen the show up to the 4th episode of the 3rd season, so if you don't want to be spoiled, get the fuck out. Now.)

Where the hell are the nukes ?

At the start of season one, we learn that the Battlestar Galactica is carrying five nuclear warheads, and that Adama is concerned for the small number of nukes he has at his disposal, assuming that with the destruction of the Colonials entire civilization there are no more nukes to be had, so these nukes will need to be pressed into service only under the most dire of circumstances.

Adama first gives Baltar one nuclear warhead so that Baltar can use the radioactive material as a component in his 'Cylon detector'. Adama uses a second warhead against a Cylon Basestar at the conclusion of season one.

We go all of season two without seeing any of the remaining three nukes used. In addition, the fleet picks up a second Battlestar, the Pegasus, and we can only assume she also carries nukes, although we are never told such.

As far as I can tell, we start season three with at least three nukes, and we find the Colonials trapped on a planet in captivity where the Cylons have in effect created a concentration camp type scenario.

Adama takes the Galactica into battle against four Basestars, and we get the impression there is no way for the Galactica to stave off the onslaught of this many Basestars. The Colonials are rescued but the Galactica is crippled and in the fatal grip of the Cylons. It's at this time the Pegasus appears and drives off the Cylons long enough for the Galactic to escape, although she is lost in the battle.

But seriously, where the hell are the nukes? If Adama seriously thought the Galactica was about to be destroyed at the hands of the Cylons, and the fate of over 40 thousand Colonials was hanging in the balance, wouldn't he pull a couple of those bad boys out?

The topic is never broached. We as viewers have no idea what the status of these warhead is. This is the only major glaring point I have with the series at this point. I know its a silly little thing, but come on. Baltar gave the warhead he acquired for his detector to a Cylon agent and it was used at the end of season two to destroy the Cloud Nine. So it's not as if nukes just don't exist anymore.

Okay, I'm rambling now. But I'd really like to know what is up with this, because the rescue of the Colonials in the latest episode, the tactics used by Adama, these were outrageous and wholly unexpected. Beyond bold. I stood up out of my chair when I saw what was happening. The writers of this show gave to me the most amazing moment in my television viewing experience that I can remember.

But they must have forgotten they had a couple nukes to help them out. I'm curious to see if this is addressed in the show or not...

It's all about the pie...

God gave everyone a piehole, but some of us use it more appropriately than others.


Today is pie day at work. I love pie. Pie loves me. This blog reads at the 3rd grade level.

Last night I went by Jack in the Box and bought a Pumpkin Pie Shake.

Today I had pumpkin pie for Pie Day at work.

I love pie.

You should too.

not altogether together

I'm hungover, but not in the sense that I am in pain, just tired and a little slow.

Actually that's only partially true. A long time ago, I was swimming in the ocean off the Outer Banks in North Carolina. It was... 1993 and a hurricane had come through the week before, so there was a lot of chop in the water. The waves were coming in diagonally across the beach. Not that it matters I suppose.

I was standing in the water about waste deep facing the beach saying something to my girlfriend of the time, can't remember what, and I didn't notice this right away, but, the water started draining out to sea very fast, until the water level had gone down to my ankles. I looked down to my feet, wondered what this was all about, and turned around to see where the water was going. When I turned around my eyes followed the water from my feet, all the way to the top of the wave that was about twice as tall as me. Before I could react the wave picked me and drove me head first toward the ground. I was facing chest down, underwater, and the power of the wave was trying me bend me backwards, my legs over my back, over my head.

If you have ever snapped a branch across the shin of your leg, you know the feeling of the wood the moment just before it gives way and breaks in two.

That is how my spine felt at that moment. Spooky.

I fought as hard as I could, not to break, not to drown and as fast as it came the water left. I lifted myself out of the water disoriented and my right arm hung useless at my side. It wasn't broken, but it had been dislocated at the shoulder. Only for a moment thank God, but what a fucking strange pain that is. My arm slowly recovered but for awhile afterwards I had spams in the muscles, and in certain positions my arm would get weak and couldn't hold its own weight. I never experienced a dislocated shoulder before, and I really wouldn't recommend it. It's not the worst thing I've ever felt, but it is strange feeling...

So I wake up this morning and try to lift myself up out of bed and damn if that arm didn't feel exactly like the time it was dislocated. I remember all of the night as far as I can tell, so I'm not really sure what I did to screw up my shoulder in such a way... maybe it will always be a mystery.

Also, there was a sharpie pen in my bed and a business card duct taped to my shirt.

It was a good night.

Wait for it....

My eyes hurt from 12 hours at work.

I got a thing on my neck. like a nerve thing. I think it's like the one Homer had before he turned into the Incredible Homer.

My cat went nuts and I gave him the evil eye then we got into a staring match for like a full two minutes. FTW

My left hand fingers are now dumb from too much work. I can't type. They just sort of spasm when I try to move them. I wish I was joking here.

For the first time the other day, I actually HAD to wear my glasses to see what I was doing... *sigh*

My mouse scroll wheel seems to be set to scrolling an entire page at a time. That's a pain. I'll have to fix that at some point when I'm not lazy. Probably never.

I'm tired.

I think that's about it.

Oh wait.


The good news is, I'm having a shitload of friends over for a party on Friday the 13th. I am going through tons and tons of photos and art for opialympia (I am very happy about this, although it is a load of work...) and uh... I'm healthy. Oh, and work is really cool right now.

Things are generally good. It's just that nobody jumps out of their skin when it's good, we usually just complain when things are bad.

It was a lot easier to type the gripes up top, but I had to work at the happy stuff. Although I'm glad I did now...

Spare me your words

Unbridled anger.

You. You coaxed me. You lured me. I trusted you. Fuck you. Fuck you so very much.

Then you. You. You were full of lies. To cover your shame. But that didn't stop you. Your shame was more important than your words reassuring. Fuck you.

You too. Of the many many things you didn't want me to see, hiding all this with your words. How much more do you keep under cover, in the shadows, wanting none to see? Deceit. Fuck you.

And you. With your candy coated shit. It has no nutritional value for me. It has only rotted in my stomach. Flattery gets you to the 8th level of hell, only one level above the frozen throne of Satan himself. Fuck you too.

You over there, somewhere. You have no words. Where are your words at all? Where are *you* for that matter? You said something once. Your words should be so important, more important than most others. Where are you? Well you get one too. Fuck you.



I always knew what 'unbridled anger' meant, but I never before today picked up on the metaphor. What was, for me, a simple way of expressing anger above anger, is now an elegant manner of relating the unstoppable fury, the reptilian, mindless rage. Beast set free.

Some days are just darker than others.

Veritas Vos Liberabit