Bastique

December 31, 2004

5 Most Dreaded Words of 2004

I had thoughts about what to do for the last calendar day of the year 2004. First, I can't itemize too much that occurred in the beginning of the year, before I started this blog. What happened in January? I'm sure some important things occurred. But trying to figure out exactly what they were would be quite a chore.

I've had four people die this year who were close to me, but I cannot remember Fredley's last name other than it starts with B, and a search on Sun-Sentinel.com yielded little to help me. I'll save my tribute for another date.

Then the Roomie, who is reading The Celestine Prophecy, came in and posed an interesting question, “Have you ever seen the word ‘moot’ used in any context besides along with the word ‘point’?” I don't like the word moot, and think that people that use it are trying to sound grandiloquent. As it turns out, however, the origin of moot is somewhat different than people thought.

Since this blog is principally about writing, above everything else, I thought I'd make the year-end post about writing as well. So, without further ado, here are my five most improperly used and annoying words from 2004:

5. moot Although this word has come to be defined as “of no practical importance; irrelevant,” the original meaning of the word was debatable. From Bartleby.com:

The adjective moot is originally a legal term going back to the mid-16th century. It derives from the noun moot, in its sense of a hypothetical case argued as an exercise by law students. Consequently, a moot question is one that is arguable or open to debate. But in the mid-19th century people also began to look at the hypothetical side of moot as its essential meaning, and they started to use the word to mean “of no significance or relevance.” Thus, a moot point, however debatable, is one that has no practical value. A number of critics have objected to this use, but 59 percent of the Usage Panel accepts it in the sentence The nominee himself chastised the White House for failing to do more to support him, but his concerns became moot when a number of Republicans announced that they, too, would oppose the nomination. When using moot one should be sure that the context makes clear which sense is meant.

Don't use moot, especially in the cliché, “moot point”. Instead use irrelevant, inconsequential, unimportant, unnecessary.

4. Ft. Don't use an abbreviation when you only lose one or two character (the period makes three). The forefathers and early mapmakers didn't have computers and couldn't easily change font sizes. There were abbreviations for practically everything. But in modern day English, the only time it is proper to use the abbreviations, Ft., Mt., So., or No., with regard to a city name is when you are dealing with a clear space constraint. The post office abbreviates Fort Lauderdale as FORTLAUDER. They don't even shorten Fort. Fort is a perfectly good word to spell out. There's no reason you should ever abbreviate it. Not even if you do the prompts for WSVN Channel 7 news in Miami. Dumbass idiots.

3. amongst (also unbeknownst) Amongst bears the same literal meaning as among. It's a useless word.

2. notate In English we have the noun, note. From that noun comes the verb, note, which means, “to create a note.” From that verb comes the noun, notation, which has a slightly different connotation than the noun, note, but basically means the same thing. So why did we have to create a whole new verb meaning “to create a notation?” Don't use notate. It's ugly and obsequious, and sounds downright illiterate. Use note, instead.

1. irregardless Just because we hear the word over and over again, doesn't mean we have to add it to the dictionary. I thought people had dumped it from their vocabularies, but it just keeps cropping back up. I wouldn't have included it if I didn't just hear it the other day. I kept my mouth shut when I heard it. I had some respect for the person who said it. In retrospect, I don't know why. The word is regardless.

Honest to goodness, use any of these words and most educated people will think you're an idiot. My list will probably be close to the same next year, but at one time “Ft.” was the number one word. It's dropped to number 4 this year, probably because I'm noticing it less often. Doesn't mean it's not being used as much. It's wrong...irregardless of how much I hear it.

Posted by Bastique at 2:30 PM | Comments (1)

New Year's Rose

Behold what I found in my backyard today. You can click on it for a full-size image.

I used photoshop to desaturate the background, using Mandarin Design's method. This isn't my New Year's Eve post, but I had to show it off. Enjoy it.

Posted by Bastique at 1:20 PM | Comments (0)

December 30, 2004

Random Links to an End

Tonight, I am full of random disconnected thoughts and can't come up with any sort of essay for my faithful readers. It happens from time to time with people with ADHD who only take 15mg of Adderall in the morning, like myself, after it gets late. It's why I really need to write my blogs in the morning.

I finished The Elfstones of Shannara earlier today, and was planning on writing a book review but get my thoughts together to create a full sized blog. But in order to gather the information for the above referenced link, I found the following at the Amazon.com associate's section.

I'm just leaving it here for you to know about, and click on it if you feel so compelled. At least I can say I tried to make a difference.

Posted by Bastique at 11:16 PM | Comments (0)

December 29, 2004

My poor cat

It's been a rough day for me. My poor cat Joplin, who has always had a bit of difficulty where the litterbox was concerned, has of late developed a rather nasty problem with bladder control, bowel control, and difficulty walking on his hind legs. I've been trying to hope it would go away for several weeks now, but it's only become progressively worse.

Hearken back to 2002, when Michael was first arrested—while he was in jail awaiting bond, his 11-year-old dog BJ began to have serious problems. He would go in the house, and rapidly began to deteriorate, not wanting to eat, in pain, weak. I couldn't deal with it, having to work, Michael being in jail, trying to figure out how to keep house. The day after posted bond for Michael in October, we had to run BJ to the Animal Emergency Hospital. We lost him the next day. I've had a hard time forgiving myself for the neglect.

I felt myself falling into the same cycle with my cat, who's now 11-years old, and has been with me for over 10 years, even before Michael and I got together. Finally, my roommate pushed me enough to where I had to take him in, whether I had the money or not.

Now Joplin is not displaying any difficulty eating, and seems to be of a decent demeaner although somewhat frustrated at his inability to move without dragging his legs, but still this was developing into a rather serious problem. I brought him in and faced the Vet's, "You should have brought him in a lot sooner," with a self-effacing teary-eyed, "I know."

Alas, upon x-ray it seems things are not as bad. It doesn't appear to be cancer, like BJ seemed to have. Only a pinched nerve. Apparently, my poor cat cannot feel that he has a full bladder or full bowel until it just comes out. It explains everything—including the difficulty walking. He's got some bloodwork to be done, but we're certain to get him the right treatment as soon as we get the results.

I'm not going to lose another animal to my inability to deal with things. If I have to borrow the money, I'll get whatever needs to be done, done.

Posted by Bastique at 11:24 PM | Comments (1)

December 28, 2004

38

Today's Horoscope from Astrodienst:

Favorable results
Your energies are high, you feel good, and you believe that you can do twice as much work as usual, which you probably can. This time is also favorable for most business activity, for your actions are blessed with insight that helps you succeed in business where others might fail. For the same reason, this is a good time for making decisions. You have a very clear sense of yourself and your needs, so that you can make decisions according to your best interests, in the largest and most enlightened sense of the phrase. If you must take chances or do something that you can't foresee the outcome of, this is as good a time as any. Your optimism now creates a positive energy that will attract favorable results from your gamble. Besides, you have the sense at this time to avoid any real risky ventures.

This is based on Mars Trine Jupiter, not my sun sign. Yesterday, strangly enough, the Sun was conjunction Sun, something that is supposed to happen on your birthday. I think it has something to do with the fact that this was a leap year.

Yes, today was my birthday...and a nice birthday it was. Nobody made a big deal, I had a nice date for dinner with someone I met online. We ate at Galanga, a lovely Japanese-Thai restaurant in the heart of Wilton Manors. I had a Miso Soup and a Sashimi 9-peice appetizer. Simply Delicious.

I made it another year. There was a time I'd never make it 30 and here I am at 38, and somewhat healthy, at least I believe I am. Tomorrow morning is a doctor's visit. It also means I've been doing this Blog for 6 months. One of my earliest blog entries was entitled 37½. It doesn't seem so long ago. Gosh, time is moving pretty quickly.

Posted by Bastique at 11:10 PM | Comments (0)

December 27, 2004

Brooks' Sword of Shannara

I never read Sword of Shannara as a kid. I knew about it. But I was pretty picky about the books I read and I think I was only into Tolkein at the time, along with a few other novels. I don’t remember what I was reading at 13, to be honest. Sword of Shannara just seemed too much for me.

But I’ve since read Brooks other series, like the The Word and the Void Trilogy books and Magic Kingdom of Landover books, and I like Terry Brooks. Besides, Michael has been asking me for Terry Brooks’ later novels from the Shannara series. When I saw the first three books in the Shannara series came in a compendium, the Sword of Shannara Trilogy, I decided to go ahead and buy it.

No doubt there were flaws in writing that Brooks possessed in 1977 when he wrote Sword, like the switching point of view issues and the hanging loose ends—things that he learned how to change in later writings. But in spite of it, Brooks drew me into Sword of Shannara and his characters with little difficulty. The plot is slightly derivative, but I knew when I read it this was Brooks’ first successful novel and was prepared to maintain an open mind when I read it. I was thoroughly enchanted.

I have now indeed been drawn into the Shannara series and will not stop until I’ve read them all.

Amazon links are here: Sword of Shannara, and The Sword of Shannara Trilogy.

Posted by Bastique at 11:38 PM | Comments (0)

December 26, 2004

Post Christmas Blues

I'm resting up and trying to get through the holiday season without too much depression.

I need a full-time job. It looks like I'm going to be heading down to the Florida Job office tomorrow and get some help. Maybe my HIV or ADHD can get me in a door for someone looking for a tax break. They won't be sorry.

My Persian cat, Joplin, is suffering from some really nasty lower body problems. He has no bladder or bowel control anymore and he drags himself across the floor, because his back legs don't seem to be working properly. I mentioned this problem at a meeting tonight and someone is going to give me the number for a Pet Help Center that will take care of whatever poor Jops needs without charging me. Thank goodness, because I can't afford a huge vet bill.

I have a lot to be grateful for, and I have to keep remembering that I have blessings in this world, no matter how bothersome my problems may seem. I'll be working soon, I'm certain, and able to pay the mortgage and my other bills without difficulty.

Special thanks to Mom. I love you.

Posted by Bastique at 11:41 PM

December 24, 2004

Disgusting Christmas Music

If you haven’t heard this tune, read the words once:

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line
Tryin' to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood
Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously
Pacing 'round like little boys do
And in his hands he held a pair of shoes

His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe
And when it came his time to pay
I couldn't believe what I heard him say

Chorus:
Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time
You see she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes would make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight

He counted pennies for what seemed like years
Then the cashier said, "Son, there's not enough here"
He searched his pockets frantically
Then he turned and he looked at me
He said Mama made Christmas good at our house
Though most years she just did without
Tell me Sir, what am I going to do,
Somehow I've got to buy her these Christmas shoes

So I laid the money down, I just had to help him out
I'll never forget the look on his face when he said
Mama's gonna look so great

Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time
You see she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes would make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight

Bridge:
I knew I'd caught a glimpse of heaven's love
As he thanked me and ran out
I knew that God had sent that little boy
To remind me just what Christmas is all about

Now, add stock music, a mediocre vocal and children singing at the end, and you've got the worst Christmas song ever written. This tune doesn't pull at the heartstrings, it yanks them out and holds them hostage. There is no excuse for making up this horrible story for a Christmas song, adding the word Jesus in the chorus and making oneself, as the narrator, the disgustingly self-worthwhile hero.

Why radio stations are still playing it is bizarre and confusing. Apparently, there are twelve pre-teen girls in South Florida who keep calling the stations and asking them to play it. Nobody's calling these stations and asking them not to.

The lyrics don't rhyme and have no rhythm. The song is pure, unadulterated fluff. Anyone caught with a tear in their eye should have it for anger that record companies...CHRISTIAN record labels are force-feeding us this trash and not worthwhile inspirational music.

If you want choke your way through the song, realize this: The little boy is a con artist, and the narrator, is not a hero but the duped fool. The little boy is going to bring Momma the shoes and she's going to sell them at the flea market for money for crack, and the idiot narrator hasn't been paying attention to the Iranian storekeeper who's been trying to tell him that the little boy does this every day.

If you want to complain to the radio stations I've heard it on, first off, we have 97.9 WRMF in Palm Beach County/Fort Lauderdale. Music contact person is Amy Navarro who can be reached at 561-868-1100 or by email at anavarro@wrmf.com.

I also heard the song on the Delilah show on Coast 97.3. Production Manager for Coast is David Israel, and their phone number is 954-584-7117. His email is david.isreal@cox.com.

The Delilah Show can be emailed at d@radiodelilah.com.

Please. Get this song off the airwaves!

Posted by Bastique at 6:24 PM | Comments (0)

December 23, 2004

Hidden Warrior, by Llyn Flewelling

While I wouldn’t recommend Hidden Warrior as a read-alone, it certainly is a fantastic follow-up to the first book of the Tamir Trilogy, The Bone Doll’s Twin. I read the book in only a few days. I’m eagerly anticipating the third novel, which Lynn Flewelling, on her website, says:

Due to circumstances beyond Lynn's control, the book has been delayed. Expect a 2005 release date. Lynn greatly appreciates all reader mail, and still does her best to reply, but due to time constraints, can no longer respond to "When's the next book out?" queries. Please watch this site or join the excellent, lively "Flewelling" newsgroup at yahoo.com. For now, the answer is, "Sometime in late 2005."

It seems that fantasy authors think they can just leave their readers hanging without taking care of things. They get big and they forget about us.

Oh, remember where I talked about how the artwork for Bone Doll’s Twin’s cover dramatically resembled the cover for Bradley’s Lady of Avalon? Turns out they were the same artist, John Jude Palencar. This doesn’t explain, however, the similarity between Hidden Warrior and another Marion Zimmer Bradley title, The Mists of Avalon. Granted, the horse is in the opposite direction and the sword is pointing a different direction, but considering the earlier similarity, I’m getting more and more suspicious. Just look:

Bizarre, isn’t it?

As far as the book is concerned, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Flewelling’s characters remain well-rounded and sympathetic, even the “bad guys” remaining not quite completely bad. Tobin/Tamir continues to grow as he has discovered that he is a she; yet Flewelling persists in allowing us to think of him as a “he” the same as those around Tobin perceive him.

Hidden Warrior should be a welcome addition to any fantasy library.

Buy it here: Hidden Warrior (Tamir Trilogy, Book 2)

Posted by Bastique at 11:07 AM | Comments (0)

December 22, 2004

Don't get your knickers twisted...

This newspaper article was just so awesome, I had to reprint it here. You can find the original also at this website: The St. Petersburg Times.

When it comes to sex, Americans act like adolescents: simultaneously confused, titillated, scandalized, drooling, obsessed and grossed-out. Maybe it's because we are a comparatively young nation. Maybe it's because our mythic founders - the Puritans - were the most unfun people in Europe.

It doesn't take much for us to get our knickers in a twist. A promo for the nighttime soap Desperate Housewives appearing on Monday Night Football treated viewers to a creamy-skinned blonde, dropping her towel in front of a fully-padded player in a steamy locker room. The family values nation rose up, peppering ABC with complaints. They weren't offended that this low-rent seduction scene played into stereotypes about black men and white women. They just don't like nekkidness. Children could be watching!

Of course, it is a scientific fact that the mere sight of a nice set of female thoracic vertebrae can corrupt the minds of the young. Better to focus on the game, in which a bunch of steroid-crazed, wife-beating, semi-literate millionaires harm another bunch of steroid-crazed, wife-beating, semi-literate millionaires while fans with faces and torsos painted blue or with giant pieces of plastic foam cheese on their heads cheer them on. Football is good clean all-American fun. Sex is dirty; violence is okay.

The hissy fit over Nicolette Sheridan's bare back on Monday Night Football isn't surprising in a country where the attorney general ordered the statue of Justice covered up because she sported a bare bosom, the hussy. Gay marriage, abortion, pornography, sex education - these were among the issues "values" voters in the presidential election cited as important to them. Most are evangelical Christians and most went for George W. Bush. A lot of them were still mad about Bono's feckless use of the "F-word" on a televised awards show and Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction at the Super Bowl. The scary prospect of glimpsing a nanosecond of a breast far outweighed the commercials with the flatulent horses, the booze bingeing and the one where the voice intones, "Erections lasting more than four hours require immediate medical attention."

"Values" voters claim to be all about "spirituality," but they are really fixated on the body. The Religious Right regards sexuality as dangerous, anarchic, an enemy of the orderly state. For progressives, expressions of sexuality (like religion) among consenting adults are a matter of individual liberty. In other words, not that big a deal.

But throughout American history, conservatives have used sex to tar liberals and liberal ideas. When Thomas Jefferson ran for president against John Adams, he was accused of being a crypto French Revolutionist, hell-bent on promoting nonstop partying and sanctioned adultery. The 1800 equivalents of the New York Post and Fox News ran endless (and quite prurient) stories about his affair with his slave Sally Hemings. Proslavery ideology in the 1850s argued that if "the African" were emancipated, "our civilization and its institutions would be destroyed." "Free love" would replace domesticity, uppity women would demand the right to vote and the family would disintegrate. Now we are told that if homosexuals are allowed to marry, the institution of heterosexual marriage will be wrecked. As one congressman breathlessly threatened, next thing you know polygamy will be legalized. People could marry dogs or goats. Given that straight people divorce over 50 percent of the time, the idea that gay marriage somehow undermines traditional marriage is flimsy as the outfits the Desperate Housewives wear to do the dusting.

The central question is this: When did sexual morality become equated with morality in total? What about the morality of tax cuts for the rich and extra burdens for the poor? The morality of insisting that children be born then refusing them health care and a decent education? Capital punishment? Colonialism? Torture? Lying about reasons to send young men and women to their deaths in war? Morality isn't just about reproductive organs.

Diane Roberts is author of Dream State, a book about Florida.

Posted by Bastique at 4:57 PM | Comments (0)

December 21, 2004

The Saved

The latest movies from Netflix came, and one of them is one I’ve been anxious to see. Saved! was a really enjoying film, and quite a pleasant parody of Christian youth today. Hypocrisy would have been an apropos title as well; however, I must say, the directors weren’t too hard on the Way of Life.

I live in a neighborhood wherein a large proportion of the residents attend a local megachurch called Calvary Chapel. Check out their flashy, professionally done website. Jesus for the short attention spanned.

The multiple fish symbols on these soccer mothers’ Dodge Caravans are just a little bit much; with the tiny fish indicate their children are believers too. Wait till they grow up, then see if Mom and Dad still have the full amount of little fishies on the back of their van.

And they send their kids to that same Calvary Chapel to go to school, because the public school system here in Florida is simply a mess. Not that I blame them. If I had kids I’d probably work hard to put them in private school just as well. I just wouldn’t send them to a particularly Christian private school.

I don’t think second-generation Christians turn out quite as well as first-generation. The older son of the husband next door is not a friendly guy. He listens to Christan rock and is around twenty-one or twenty-two years old, and he kind of cringes when the roomie or I are outside within view, pretending not to notice the queers over here. But I can feel his eyes on me when I’m not looking.

His father on the other hand, despite the “Choose Life” license tag and likely conservative leanings is somewhat neighborly, and the stepmother is downright pleasant to be around. She sometimes even asks about “when Michael is returning from his trip abroad.” She realizes that I only go see him, but he doesn’t come see me—but she doesn’t ask any more questions. I imagine I’ll mention the truth at some point, but today it doesn’t matter. Michael will be back regardless in about ten months.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that some people who profess to be Christian actually act like Christians, usually the ones that find Christ later in life it seems. But some of these kids that are raised a certain way, forget all about the “Love Thy Neighbor” part and only want to concentrate on how Satan is working in other people’s lives. I’m not saying it happens to everyone.

But kids need an opportunity to grow up understanding the world before they can decide for themselves. Everything I’ve ever read about Jesus Christ and his message says that each man and woman has come to his or her own understanding. You may find it in the Bible, but there’s a lot more out there than just what some priests decided in 325 AD by order of the Roman Emperor.

But that’s another day’s topic.

Posted by Bastique at 11:33 PM | Comments (0)

December 20, 2004

Not One Damn Dime Day

I'm not sure if these things really work, but at least it might say something. I got it forwarded to me and you're bound to get it by email at some point. I certainly do hope the president comes to his senses and ends the war soon. Anyway, I'm posting it here, because I don't really have the energy to come up with something original. Still bummed about my cousin.

Since our religious leaders will not speak out against the war in Iraq, since our political leaders don't have the moral courage to oppose it, Inauguration Day, Thursday, January 20th, 2005 is "Not One Damn Dime Day" in America. On "Not One Damn Dime Day" those who oppose what is happening in our name in Iraq can speak up with a 24-hour national boycott of all forms of consumer spending.

During "Not One Damn Dime Day" please don't spend money. Not one damn dime for gasoline. Not one damn dime for necessities or for impulse purchases. Not one damn dime for anything for 24 hours.

On "Not One Damn Dime Day," please boycott Wal-Mart, K-Mart and Target. Please don't go to the mall or the local convenience store. Please don't buy any fast food (or any groceries at all for that matter).

For 24 hours, please do what you can to shut the retail economy down. The object is simple. Remind the people in power that the war in Iraq is immoral and illegal; that they are responsible for starting it and that it is their responsibility to stop it.

"Not One Damn Dime Day" is to remind them, too, that they work for the people of the United States of America, not for the international corporations and K Street lobbyists who represent the corporations and funnel cash into American politics. Not One Damn Dime Day" is about supporting the troops. The politicians put the troops in harm's way. Now 1,200 brave young Americans and (some estimate) 100,000 Iraqis have died. The politicians owe our troops a plan -- a way to come home.

There's no rally to attend. No marching to do. No left or right wing agenda to rant about. On "Not One Damn Dime Day" you take action by doing nothing. You open your mouth by keeping your wallet closed. For 24 hours, nothing gets spent, not one damn dime, to remind our religious leaders and our politicians of their moral responsibility to end the war in Iraq and give America back to the people.

Posted by Bastique at 11:32 PM | Comments (1)

December 19, 2004

Craig

My cousin, Craig died this morning. He would have been 45 years old on New Year’s Day.

He’s a hard one to talk about, because we were never close, like I am with my other cousins. He drank, regularly and heavily, for most of his life. He died in his sleep, after suffering from cancer that spread from his liver and further out.

The family found out a few weeks ago he didn’t have long to live, so we kind of expected it. Still, I’m feeling a bit numb about it.

The Craig I remember was an older cousin, when we were kids—the loud instigator at Thanksgiving dinners, the butt and teller of jokes all at the same time. I never wanted to be around him, because I always felt like I was going to be on the receiving end of his jibes.

I don’t know when he began to fall by the wayside, I’m sure he started drinking young—but despite the fact that I went to high school in the area that my mother’s family lived, I didn’t hear too much about his trials and tribulations. There were things that just weren’t talked about in my family.

He was the first of my cousins to be married, and first to have a child. But he broke up with his wife early on, and his son was not very much a part of our family get-togethers in subsequent years, even when Craig endeavored to make an appearance.

His death can easily be an example of the demons of alcohol and drug abuse, easily because the liver problems he suffered and brain damage and ultimate cancer were directly due to his drinking problem. But it stinks that it happened all the same. At least I can take from it a stronger conviction that I never want to repeat the same self-abusive patterns that led to his death.

Posted by Bastique at 11:21 PM | Comments (1)

December 18, 2004

Silly Blog Games

Okay, this is something that I found on Annabel's Blog and thought I would do the same.

Sounds like a swell way to get to know people, plus it will give me fodder for future posts. Follow the directions. Even if it's your first time here.

Any response to the questions should be done as a comment to the blog:

1. Recommend to me:
1. a movie
2. a book
3. a musical artist/album/song
2. Ask me any three questions you want, anything at all.
3. Go to your blog (if you have one), copy and paste this and allow everyone to ask you anything.

Posted by Bastique at 11:53 AM | Comments (2)

Story of My Life

Since Annabel is helping out with Pete's blog, I thought I should add her to my recommended blogging list. She's a very well-spoken writer and quite prolific, and like Tammi, she's a Texan.

And her blog can be seen here: Story of My Life

Posted by Bastique at 11:52 AM | Comments (0)

December 17, 2004

Correctional Officer Mom

You all know how much I love Michael, because I tell you how much I love Michael. He sent me a Christmas card, with a lovely (but unprintable) note inside as well as delicate flattened flowers. And this year I have to remember to send a Christmas card to him. Today.

But as with everything in life, there should be no surprise that opinions and points of view are many varied, even when it comes to prison life. Through Prison Pete, and the letters from Michael herein, you’ve seen one side of the life—that of the lonely prisoner, grudgingly serving out his time and paying his debt to society. From Tammi in Texas, you get the trials and tribulations of an ex-con, trying to find love, balance and acceptance from the world around her. Here on my blog, you get to hear the anger, sadness, and joys of the sometimes loyal, sometimes inconsolable partner-on-the-outside, biding his time in the best way he knows how.

Now I present for your reading pleasure everything else inside, written by “CO Mom”, life and times of a sympathetic but hardened female correctional officer. CO Mom hasn’t posted anything for a few weeks, but what she has posted is interesting and provocative. Her byline is, “I have an opinion. Maybe you want hear it, if not get lost!”

Be brave, take a read!

Posted by Bastique at 10:25 AM | Comments (0)

December 16, 2004

The Bone Doll's Twin

When the topic of gay characters in fantasy writing came up, someone on Carol Berg’s email list recommended I read Lynn Flewelling. Since the topic was “homosexuality in fantasy,” I didn’t jump out and by any Flewelling novels right away. Besides, I had a few novels to go through before I got there.

But I ran out of books in November, and had to find something to read, and Flewelling’s name came up on my Amazon recommended reading list, for the umpteenth time. I was a tad bit hesitant the first time I saw The Bone Doll’s Twin come up, because the cover looked way too much like Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Lady of Avalon. I don’t know if anyone noticed this but me.

But this time I bought it—along with a few other novels (including the second book in the trilogy—see upcoming post), and it was the first novel in this shipment that I started to read.

I was swept into the story right away. The Kingdom of Skala has a prophecy that states that so long as a daughter of the royal line rules, the kingdom will never be subjugated. But the current ruler is a son, who has no desire in restoring the female line; and female heirs begin to die of mysterious causes. His younger sister, content not to rule, is giving birth to twins, and certain wizards, based on an oracular vision, arrive during the birth to ensure that the female babe survives until she is old enough to rule.

Separated at Birth?

What they need to do requires necromancy, which is something that wizards want nothing to do with, so they enlist the help of a witch. With the father’s blessing, the other child (a boy) is made to be stillborn and the witch take his flesh and using a spell, a needle and thread, clothe the daughter child in the son’s flesh.

Tobin, she(he) is come to be called, and for the first 12 years of his life he has no idea he is actually a girl. His mother has gone mad and keeps herself in the tower, and the ghost of his brother haunts the keep.

I engulfed this novel quickly, and the next in the series. These novels are wonderful for anyone, gay or not, and yet simple enough for a teenager to read.

It's worth the buy. Buy it here, today: The Bone Doll's Twin (Tamir Trilogy, Book 1)

Posted by Bastique at 11:41 AM | Comments (0)

December 15, 2004

Xmas Lights

Got very little done today except pull the deer out of the storage room and then I got all the lights out, spending hour after hour testing the long green strands that I love so much, frustrated that I can’t get more than one of three green strands to work. Now it's starting to feel like the holiday season.

With Roomie’s help, put the lights up. —Roomie was once display designer at Marshall Fields in Chicago so many years ago. Good thing having a designer mind under my roof.

When Roomie moved in, he told me that Michael and I must have lived like lesbians. No sense of style, design, too many animals, it goes on and on. Perhaps he's right. I picked out the colors of the dining room and kitchen myself, but when Roomie moved in we painted over the offensive shades.

I have to say the kitchen looks much better now that the color is different. The dining room isn’'t anymore, because we moved all of the unused weight sets out of the unused Florida room and redid the Florida room, putting the dining room fishtank into the Florida room making it a divider between family area and my little office, where I sit right now. The dining room now contains the weight machine, a few fishtanks and full-length mirrors (for working out) as well as a cat box where three (of four) cats go to do their daily duty.

I’'m only posting so you can see a picture of my beautiful front yard display. Now we don’t look like the scrooges of the neighborhood. The Christians next door, thankfully, still haven’t gotten to decorations. I hate being last.

Posted by Bastique at 6:55 AM | Comments (0)

December 14, 2004

Prison Pete Redux

For those of you unfamiliar with Prison Pete, his link is just to the right of me. I really admire both Pete and Editor, who faithfully converts Pete’s correspondence into online form for the reading pleasure of the Internet. I first mentioned Pete way back in August. His blog was the inspiration for Michael to start writing letters to post.

Prisoners are people too—and any of you are idiots who think that everyone who's in jail belong there, take a look at your own past and see what kind of things you never got in trouble for. Unlike you, however, some people are actually paying their debt to society.

Well, good ol’ Pete has left the custody of the Feds, and has now settled into Suffolk County Jail, where he’s going to await his New York State sentencing (I think this is what’s going on…)

And since the man doesn’t have a typewriter, he’s been faithfully sending handwritten copies to poor Editor-man to post on the blog. Yours truly volunteered to help out with the typing and boy did I get a perfect doozie of a letter today!

It’s all found at Prison Pete.

Posted by Bastique at 4:35 PM | Comments (1)

December 13, 2004

Year's Best Fantasy 4

I picked up The Years Best Fantasy 4 when I went home for my Twentieth Year High School Reunion and I forgot to bring the books I was reading along with me. I enjoy a good anthology from time to time and rather appreciate the art of short story making. I’ve written a number of short stories myself, and although two have been published—I have a distinct portfolio of them.

From the beginning I was pleased, as the book started off with Michael Swanwick’s “King Dragon,” a short story set in the same world as his nihilistic 1997 fantasy, The Iron Dragon's Daughter. The story, while self-encompassing, was written in the same postmodern industrialized fairy world as the novel. It gave me great pleasure to return to that land.

I was delighted by Gahan Wilson’s brief horror, “The Big Green Grin,” as well as Charles Coleman Finley’s traditional fantasy, “Wild Thing.” Neil Gaiman, of graphic novel fame, had a mini-horror entitled “Closing Time,” in the mix—a bit too off the wall for my tastes.

I adored Kelly Link’s “Catskin” and will remember it for years to come. Tanith Lee doesn’t disappoint with her werewolf horror, “Moonblind.” Tim Pratt a new writer, will certainly be a name to look out for. He was a masterful and imaginative storyteller in “Fable from a Cage.” Lucius Shepard’s “Señor Volto” was a wonderful and bizarre piece. Mary Soon Lee’s “Shen’s Daughter” was cute.

“Basement Magic,” by Ellen Klages, certainly stands apart. It’s a little piece of entertainment between a 1960 era young girl, her mean stepmother, and the southern black housekeeper who teaches the child bits of practical magic to learn to deal with the situation.

Finally, “Almost Home” by Terry Bisson, was the perfect ending to the anthology. A story about three children, doing things only children do, in a world limited only by the desert boundaries of their tiny oasis-like town and the edges of their imagination.

If you’d like to pick up the this wonderful anthology, edited by David G. Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer, do so here: Year's Best Fantasy 4.

Posted by Bastique at 10:59 AM | Comments (0)

December 11, 2004

I Heart Flashcube.org

It’s Saturday, and I stayed in bed till 1:30pm. Saturday is a good day to do nothing. Will considers the Saturday the Sabbath, like some non-Christian faiths as well as a few Christian ones, and lately, I’ve decided to make Saturday my no-work, stress-free day. I can wait until Sunday to do important things, like extensive blog entries.

I found this blog when I did a search for images for an earlier blog entry. Eric at I Heart Flashcube.org presents links to online games and cute quizzes. I’m checking it out regularly. I haven’t found any offensive adult links on it yet, either.

Posted by Bastique at 11:14 PM | Comments (0)

December 10, 2004

Fetus Fancy

It seems like the blogs I hit regularly are slowing down for the holiday season, and I don’t know whether it’s an all-encompassing thing or whether I just have my own lame excuses for not posting. I just haven’t really felt anything really worthwhile to post about.

I spoke with Michael’s niece today—she’s having twins. I told her that I was proud of her decision to keep the babies. You may have discovered over the course of reading my blog entries that I have somewhat liberal leanings. When it comes to the abortion issue, I’m decidedly right of middle.

While I cannot abide anyone taking away a woman’s right to choose, I still believe abortion is wrong in every sense of the word. Nobody can come up with a conclusive answer as to when life begins, but by the time a mother knows she’s pregnant, she’s well beyond the two-cell splitting into four-stage. There’s a little person inside of that woman.

There is not a dearth of good parents out there for children, no matter what the child’s ethnicity. When the Florida gay adoption law gets shot down once and for all, people will find there’s an even greater number of available parents, here in the gay community. I also believe that anti-abortion groups will find support among gay men and lesbians, especially if there’s a trade-off: “You support stronger abortion laws and we’ll support overturning Florida’s gay adoption prohibition.”

As simple as this would be, it could never possibly happen because most right-to-lifers are also very Christian and very anti-anything-gay. That sort of Christian is not going to compromise his or her beliefs simply to get support.

Myself, I believe in stronger abortion laws, but only if children receive better sex education, and are allowed to learn about safe alternatives to abstinence, and if gay and lesbian parents are permitted to adopt.

Since some part of that is detestable to so many of the people involved on whatever side, it’s not an opinion I can share loudly, or often.

But this is my blog, and I’m safe to say what I want here. And, while I encourage differing opinions, I also have freedom of deletion if you get nasty or insulting.

Cartoon copied from some guy named Randy Milholland, at University of North Texas. Unauthorized. I thought it was cute and applicable. Sue me if you must.

Posted by Bastique at 2:20 PM | Comments (1)

December 8, 2004

The Ties that Bind

I called Michael’s mother today. She doesn’t seem to be there when he tries to call her from Club Fed.

I’m really bummed by the telephone call. First thing I hear is that his nineteen-year-old niece is five months pregnant. Apparently she fell in love with this guy and against everyone’s advice moved up to Savannah with him, then left one night and returned to Fort Lauderdale. Then found out she was pregnant only when she got home. I won’t be surprised if this kid gets her mother’s last name like Michael’s niece did, furthering the tradition of single mothers in his family.

I could send Michael a letter, and he might it on Friday—or I can wait until his telephone call on Sunday to tell him, either way, there’s no way for me to share with him this blessed news.

The main reason I called Michael’s Mom, however, was to let him know he’d be eligible for a furlough next April, and to see if she wanted to come down for a visit at that time. “We’ll see how my health is,” was her response. “Let me know when we get closer to the date.”

No excitement. No concern. She was even doubtful that Michael will actually change. I really began to feel protective of Michael at that point—this is his own mother—and she doesn’t really know this man. “He’s changed, I said. He’s tired of living that lie.” She’s prefers to wait and see. At least she said she sent him a Christmas card.

More reason to be grateful to my own family, who seems to be genuinely sincere when they say they’re looking forward to Michael’s release. Maybe for a few of them it’s for my benefit—I have been somewhat of a basket case at times while Michael’s been gone; but my family truly likes Michael and wishes him well.

Michael’s own sister lives in Fort Lauderdale and I never talk to her. She never talks to me. Her daughter is knocked up and doesn’t care if Michael, who helped raise these kids in their early years, knows it or not.

Michael’s brother, the few times I’ve spoken with him, holds onto an “I told you so,” attitude about Michael’s arrest, though I doubt he ever actually said anything. He doesn’t send his brother mail.

There’s a wonderful cousin in California who corresponds to Michael, although she writes as much about Jesus as she does about her own family. Someone’s got to save him, and she’s taken it on herself.

I love and care about Michael, and it was no difficult decision for me to stick around and see this through. Maybe it’s the way I was raised. But his family is more than content to allow me that responsibility. It makes me sick to think that if I weren’t here for him, he’d have nobody to take it on.

F.P. says when you have a resentment toward people to pray for them. Well I’ll do that.

God bless ‘em.

P.S. Michael loves getting cards. If anyone wants to send him one, email me and I'll send you the address.

Posted by Bastique at 4:22 PM | Comments (0)

December 7, 2004

Armin Hammer

Remember the post from several days ago, wherein I sent an email to the Annie Armin Live show, letting 'em know just how much wrong they could do? (My original post is here: Two Sides to Every Story. I (and a number of other ADHD peeps) got a HUGE reply back. I'm not even going to post it here...if you want to read it, I created a separate page for it: A Letter From Annie.

This just goes to show you that some people see only red when it comes to whatever important issues, notably danger to children, are on their mind, and they're willing to advance their causes rather than admit that they might be a little wrong in their method. My response to her is as follows:

Posted by Bastique at 10:00 AM | Comments (1)

December 5, 2004

The Life and Death of Peter Sellers

The Roomie and I sat down for a nice evening of HBO Sunday night television. Unexpectedly, the HBO current drama, The Wire, wasn’t on in order that HBO could feature its movie, The Life and Death of Peter Sellers.

I must say, I expected a bit more from the movie, hoping it would be a bit more entertaining. HBO’s preview certainly made it look as if it would be more upbeat. Geoffrey Rush commands a superb performance of the famous actor, his own characters and the brief cutaway scenes wherein Rush portrays various other characters in the movie notwithstanding. But the movie, which I wouldn’t even classify as dark comedy, was ultimately depressing.

Peter Sellers is presented as a childlike and selfish man with no personality of his own who faced anything serious in his life by retreating into characters. The writers show him as a megalomaniac, who only returns to Blake Edwards’ Pink Panther films after he has a series of cinematic failures and is basically broke.

Academy award winning actress Charlize Theron is the opposite of Aileen Wournos, portraying Sellers second wife and 60s starlet, Britt Ekland (Eckland). Her Swedish “accent” is unconvincing. English character actress Miriam Margolyes does a wonderful job as Peg Sellers, the overbearing mother who created the monster of self and arrogance that Peter Sellers apparently became. The movie also features John Lithgow, playing John Lithgow as Blake Edwards (Geoffrey Rush does a better job at Edwards in a brief cutaway scene), and a decent performance by Stanley Tucci as Stanley Kubrick.

Emily Watson, best known for her Oscar-nominated role in Hilary and Jackie, also has an outstanding performance as Anne Sellers, Peter’s first wife and source of emotional support, long after their divorce.

Ultimately, I would not be surprised if Sellers’ children or any of his wives had a strong hand in the making of this film, given the sympathetic portrayal of both Anne Sellers and Britt Eckland as well as Anne’s children, Michael and Sarah. Although in general, the acting provided award-winning performances, notably by Rush, this movie should be included in a long line of bitter, posthumous bio-epics that began with Mommie Dearest.

If you are a great fan of Geoffrey Rush, and want to watch one of the performances of his life, see The Life and Death of Peter Sellers. If you are, like I am, a huge fan of Peter Sellers' life work, then rent any one of his many motion pictures, but avoid this movie at all cost.

Posted by Bastique at 11:46 PM | Comments (2)

December 3, 2004

Literary News

I received the following email about a month ago: