The first buboe...

Should I be concerned? Well, obviously. But more specifically should I be concerned that a Spirit Halloween is going is moving in to my town? 

Ours is a vibrant, bustling downtown full of restaurants, shops
and for some reason a place where you can make your own candles.
Because people will buy anything when they're on vacation. Anything.

If you can think of a better use for three
hundred dollars I'd like to...huh? Oh, right.
Food, gas, insulin, literally anything else.

"A store that just sells nothing but Halloween costumes, animatronic witches, and garbage candy? That's great!" You undoubtably just cried. "After all, Halloween is a magical time of the year and easily the equal of Christmas or Valentine's Day. Why shouldn't there be a national chain store that exists solely to hawk Halloween-themed wares?" "But is it?" I reply. "Is it great? Ask yourself, where does one usually see Spirit Halloween stores?" "Why, at the mall." You respond. "Dead malls." I fire back. And with that, I'll stop with the dialogue thing. 

The ocean's not going to fill itself with plastic...

I don't begrudge anyone the joy of exchanging hard-earned money for plastic nonsense they'll throw out come November but...uh...actually, I'd kind of like to begrudge. I don't hate fun or anything, but do we, as a civilization really need more branded Avengers costumes and vampire contact lenses? Like the carbon footprint of shipping this junk across the Pacific just seems a little hard to justify when everything is so, you know, on fire.

If it were an animal, I think the
biological term would be scavenger.

But beyond environmental impact of the Halloween industry, there's something unnerving about these places from an economic perspective. The one going in downtown is filling a vacant storefront that, until the pandemic, was a family owned art supply store that had been around for decades. Once the Halloween store is gone, it will be vacant again. The landlord isn't rushing to fill the place because through the vagaries of tax loopholes, it's somehow cheaper to write off the vacancy rather than to take a risk on a new business. Because capitalism is gross.

And it all just folds into the general sense of dread that I think a lot of us have been experiencing these last few weeks...months...years. Yeah, really since say about late 2016. I think the feeling is called civilizational decline, which I realize is a lot to pin on a seasonal chain store, but at the same time I don't think I'm wrong.

Spirit Halloween is just the first buboe on the medieval peasant.

Yeah, but still a militia, right?

Divides? What do you mean "Militia members presence at fire scene divides community"? What do I mean "What do you mean?" I'm referring to an article from the Mercury News about a group called The California 2nd Militia who were helping victims of the Oak Fire. 

Remember when Al Gore ran for President on a platform of environmentalism,
won the popular vote but not the electoral college, so then George W. Bush
became the President and now everything is on fire? Yeah, me too. 

I've had it. It's unpleasant.

Ok, so what's the big deal about the armed services coming out to help people affected by a natural disaster? I'm glad I pretended you asked. Despite the vaguely official sounding name, The California 2nd Militia isn't so much a part of the armed services as they are a bunch of chaps who show up to things like wild fires. While they didn't bring guns to Mariposa they did hand out goat milk, farm fresh eggs, and pancakes. No really, that's what they did. Imagine a farmer's market run by the kind of people who frequent Cabela's instead of hipsters.

Can't imagine why anyone
would get that impression..

Their website--and yes, I looked it up and am now probably on a watch list or something. The things I do for this dumb blog--anyway, the site tries to make it very clear that they're not a hate group or a white supremacist organization:

"We are not a white supremacist group...We are not a hate group...We are not conspiracy nuts..."

-The California 2nd Militia's

About Us page, clearing things up

Don't we have like, tanks and
aircraft carriers and the Pentagon?

But aren't they though? A little conspiracy nutty that is? Ok, maybe that's not the right word--or a word at all--but when one joins an organization whose stated goal is, among other things, to act as a line of defense against foreign invasion, isn't one sort of subscribing to a certain worldview? One that evidently doesn't view the existing U.S. military as being adequate and feels that they need the help of some random dudes with AR-15's.

I don't know that that's quite conspiracy-nut town, but it's definitely not a long walk to conspiracy-nut town.

It's what the French would call l'esprit du chapeau tinfoil. 

A Constitution which can apparently
mean anything. Just, whatever you want.

Obviously some people are, you know, upset by the sight of a bunch of guys in camouflage descending, uninvited, up on the town in military vehicles. Some, according to the Mercury News article, are even suggesting that The California 2nd Militia are exploiting the disaster. Which, I'm not entirely sure how, but I'm kind of with them. The people who are freaked I mean. This is, after all, a group who pattern themselves after the military but unlike the military aren't answerable to anyone other than their own personal interpretation of the Constitution. 

The local Sherrif's Department says that they didn't call the militia group, but defended them saying that they're "not unsupportive...and that they appreciate their efforts..." Yikes. I don't know about you, but there's something alarmingly Kyle Rittenhouse about white guys who just self-deputize. And look, maybe these people are genuinely out there to help, but if you're going to hand out goat milk with your weird Red Dawn cosplay crew, maybe print up some t-shirts or something instead of showing up in full invasion kit?

If they're there to help, why do they need to blend
into their surroundings? Like, the fire can't see them...

Ninja, Ninja Wrap!

Look, in no way do I want to shame grown-ups about their Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fandom. I myself was obsessed as a kid. I watched the cartoon, I had the action figures and my child-mind nearly imploded when I happened upon a single photo in the back on Nintendo Power magazine revealing that a live-action movie was mere months away. 

In those primitive times there was no internet upon which to leak or tease
movie news. You just had to stumble onto things like this. But on the other
hand, toxic fandom and internet trolls hadn't been invented yet either. 

Pictured: the single port that definitely had
nothing at all to do with selling you AirPods
so you didn't have to choose between
charging and using headphones.

So please understand that when I question the existence of Pixel skins that make your Pixel look like--huh? What's a Pixel? Yeah, evidently in this context it's a cellular telephone, like an iPhone or a Galaxy except Google makes it and you'd never heard of it until just now. And no, I'm not trying to be a snob or suggest that iPhones are all that great. I'm routinely frustrated with mine and my inability to shut the screen off without taking a picture of the home screen. All I'm saying is that I don't think I've ever seen a Pixel in the wild.

And if the unfortunately named Dbrand--the company that makes these--has its way, you may never actually spot one because everyone who has a Pixel will wrap it in one these dumb, twenty-five dollar skins. 

Now everyone will know who your favorite turtle is. After you explain that it's not
just a green phone and how they'd totally get it if they saw all four colors together.

Above: Leonardo, seen here with some of
the many accessories you immediately lost.

Like, admittedly they do indeed remind me of the Ninja Turtles (again, assuming four phones are lined up). I can practically hear the cartoon's theme song and smell the PVC of the action figures. And I'm sure that's what they're going for: to once again stimulate the over-worked nostalgia glads of fans of a certain age. That is, my age. And the company is apparently in on the joke, or at least, putting a lampshade on the idea that they're brazenly exploiting the trend of selling Xennials their childhood back one piece at a time. According to the manufacturer: 

"Return of Cold-whoa...too soon..."

-some autocrat

"Monetizing nostalgia is a big business. Whether it's a Netflix rehash of 80's classics, the resurgence of flip phones or the return of the Cold War...So, here we are. It's 2022 and society has run out of new ideas choosing instead to constantly repackage old ones. We want to cash in on that action."

-Dbrand's marketing depart-wait, they know 

the war in Ukraine is still happening right?

I guess it's the appropriately named Dbrand

Huh...so the world is a shit-show as well as a cultural wasteland, but thanks to our plastic nonsense, you can briefly be reminded of a time when your only responsibilities were homework and solving Zelda II. 

"Hey, remember Ninja Turtles?"

-some firefighter, fighting a loosing battle

"I mean, just look at it..."

-Dbrand's legal defense

Incidentally, did they actually get the TMNT intellectual property rights? I'm not like the trademark police or anything, but I ask because there's no mention of Nickelodeon, the company that owns them now, and that seems like the kind of thing you lock down before you sell branded junk like this. Also, Dbrand did once get sued by Sony for trying to sell replacement shells for the Play Station 5 that made it look less--what's the word? Terrible? But they lost because they didn't bother to secure rights. 

But whatever. I'm not the copy-write police. The bigger issue here is that I'm not sure one can wryly comment on naked consumerism whilst simultaneously trying to sell us grey market phone skins on the basis of our memories of happier times.

This is the kind of thing massive diesel container ships cross oceans to
deliver to our shores, and part of the reason Europe is on fire right now.

Today in victims of High School theatre:

The Internet: giving your uninformed
opinions the appearance of value since 1990.

So what is this guy suing over? Who? The gym teacher--sorry, Corey McNellis, the guy who's suing Ponderosa High School in Colorado is actually the former assistant principal...but also the athletic director. And if I'm denigrating his position--former position--by calling him a gym teacher just know that it's because I'm dismissive of sports in general and not him personally. Although I'm also dismissive of Corey McNellis and his dumb lawsuit which, despite not being a lawyer or involved in this in any way, I have an opinion about. Because the internet.

"Florida: we don't even know the meaning
of the word "gay." Because we banned it."

-a small, ignorant man

McNellis says he's suing because he was let go after complaining about the school putting on a production of The Laramie Project, which, if you're unfamiliar, is a play dealing with the Matthew Shepard's murder. The play, written by Moisés Kaufman and the Tectonic Theatre Company in New York draws from interviews with people involved in the case as well as news reports. It's sort of the theatrical equivalent of a documentary as well as being an important and powerful piece that every high school in America should make a part of the curriculum. Especially in Florida, you know, the worst state?

Above: McNellis, whose email
proves that everyone is not cool.

McNellis, upon learning that Ponderosa High intended to put on The Laramie Project, emailed his colleagues saying:

"As a Dad of a student here and also as an employee in the school, what is my recourse if I disagree with the production? Was this a heads up to see if everyone is cool?"

-Corey McNellis, noted 

school official and Karen 

According to the Greeley Tribune, the lawsuit alleges that McNellis was fired "because of his Christian belief and because he expressed his views, which are protected by the First Amendment." 

And we're bound to have a lot more
of them thanks to a certain beer-loving
sexual assault enthusiast. Sorry, alleged.

Additionally, McNellis told the Denver Post that "It [his objections] absolutely never had anything to do with anti-LGBTQ [sic]" and that none of his comments could be taken as such. So, couple of things and again, I'm not a parent, I don't live in Colorado, and I haven't the slightest stake in this situation. That said, first, can I just take a moment here to push back on the notion that being a parent entitles one to the moral high ground? I mention it because making a child is, as I understand it, not exactly difficult. They let anyone, anyone have kids. Not matter how unqualified.

"Show me where I condemn gay people.
No? So you've got nothing? Thought so."

-Jesus, kind of over these people

Sure, he has a child in the school, but if he objects to the play, can't he just not let his kid go? He asks "what is my recourse if I disagree with the production?" as though the play was being produced at him--which, wait was it? I mean, he does go on to complain that he was fired for expressing his views. Maybe someone felt like this community could use The Laramie Project. Of course, he did say that his objections weren't anti LGBTQ, but I often find myself questioning both the self-awareness and the theological knowledge of the people who can't stop talking about how Christian they are.

Ugh...gay people...always going door
to door, trying to give you Bibles and--
wait, sorry, I'm thinking of Christians.

He might not even get how anti-LGBTQIA+ his objections are. The sentence "I've got nothing against those people, as long as they're not shoving it in our faces" leaps to mind. Then again, maybe he does. I mean, if he was fired for his beliefs, and those beliefs were expressed in the context of objecting to The Laramie Project, but weren't routed in anti-gay sentiment, which beliefs did he express? Surely it would have to have something to do with the show, right? His lawyer says that he doesn't like how Christians are portrayed in the play and the lawsuit cites his objection as the fact that the play presents "Christian leaders, some of whom share unsavory opinions regarding Shepard's murder...cite[ing] their Christian faith as the reason for their views." 

But the piece is based on actual interviews and show is quoting the Christian leaders the lawsuit is referencing, so it kind of seems like McNellis should have an issue with them, rather than the school for putting the show on. 

Hey, you don't suppose McNellis is actually motivated out of either discomfort with
LGBTQIA+ subject matter or even outright homophobia and that he's hiding behind some
weird, right-wing Christian persecution complex in order to win his lawsuit, do you?

Florida, it's just not for me.

"It was this or public school funding. Whooo!"

-The City of Orlando

ICON Park, which used to be called I-Drive 360 (ugh), is home to The Wheel. It's a four hundred foot Ferris wheel with enclosed, air-conditioned passenger cards. Think the London Eye, but, you know, in Florida. It used to be called the Orlando Eye (probably because of the afore mentioned London Eye) before becoming the Coca-Cola Orlando Eye (because capitalism) and then Icon Orlando before finally settling on The Wheel. But the flailing for an identity has now gone beyond just the name and into its very purpose. 

Where else in the world can you see
four Hooters Restaurants at once?

Which is, I suppose, understandable. The London Eye, of course, offers stunning three hundred and sixty degree views of one of the world's oldest cities. The Wheel on the other hand is somewhat hampered located, as it is, in Orlando and therefore can only offer views of three hundred and sixty degree views of the urban sprawl that it Orlando, Florida--and yes, I'm going to be ripping on Florida a lot, and I'd like to apologize. Like to. Get rid of Ron DeSantis and we'll talk. Anyway, where were we?

Oh right, the boondoggle. Desperate for something to offer other than hoisting visitors forty storeys above a city famous for Disney World and, uh...Boggy Creek Airboat Tours (what? I searched what is Orlando famous for other than Disney), the owners of The Wheel have added laser tag.

"And if you look out the left side of the airboat, you'll see the delicate ecosystem
we're disrupting for the entertainment of slack-jawed goons like yourselves. Whooo!"

-Some airboat tour guide

"Suck it Dave and Busters! Whooo!"

-The holding company 

that owns The Wheel

Well, fine, not laser tag per se, but for an extra $5.95, riders can add Bullseye Blast to their experience. What's Bullseye Blast you might reasonably inquire? Why it's a game where you sight targets placed on the ground around The Wheel and shoot them with infra-red beams. These beams bounce back to the gun, register a hit, and you get a point. The player with the most points wins. I guess. Ok yeah, it is functionally laser tag which is trade-mark free if you spell laser with an "s" and not a "z." So there's that. But do I even have to say it?

It's good to know that if the King of
England walks into Target and starts passing
 Stamp Acts, this guy's got our backs.

Well, do I? Alright, but only because you asked me to. Don't say I never do anything for you. Here goes: what the actual? I mean, what the actual? Did no one involved here question the optics? I know these are harmless infra-red beams and that the object is to hit targets, but guns. America. Sure this is Florida, but poor taste is poor taste. We, as a nation, are more than a little raw on the subject of guns. Half of us--well, more than half. Most of us really, but why quibble?--want to crack down on what amounts to a reckless and violent hobby while the other half want to carry loaded weapons around Target and don't get why that's a problem for the rest of us.

Look, I don't live in Florida and will likely not visit Orlando anytime soon. And even if I didn't, I'm not really into a slow, vertigo-inducing ride on one of these things, so take my opinions with the usual amount of salt. But I guess I just feel like maybe now is a time to re-examine our culture's relationship with guns and violence. And turning something like a Ferris wheel into an opportunity for tourists to role-play as bell tower shooters just strikes me as a little, you know, gross.

"I like to pretend I'm shooting at congress members on their way
to certify an election with an outcome I don't like! Whoo!"*

-Some tourist

*it's my understanding that all Floridians finish their sentences with "whooo."

That's why they call them critics...

Available in the Your Dad 
section of your local bookstore.

Wait, what arena? What's that? What do I mean what arena? I don't know! Ask Navy Seal turned author Jack Carr. He appeared on Tucker Carlson Tonight to talk about the disparity between-huh? No, I didn't watch goddamn Tucker Carlson, what do you take me for? I'm reading about this whole thing online. Anyway, it's about the disparity between the critical reception and user reviews of the TV series based on his book called The Terminal List. And no, I didn't read the book or watch the show.

They made it for gladiators? Does...
does he not know what an arena is?

But that's not important. What is important is James Carr's explanation as to why on Rotten Tomatoes the critical review average is 43% while the audience average score is 94%.

"It falls right in line with everything that I understand about the current culture and climate in America right now. It seems to have triggered quite a few of these critics. The 95 [sic, it's gone down a point] percent viewer rating, audience rating makes it all worth it. We didn't make it for the critics. We made it for those in the arena."

-James Carr, blaming politics for shitty reviews

"Finally, a tv show made for people like me."

-a straight white guy

Ok, fine. He's not blaming politics. But there definitely a hint of "Them librul elite critics done didn't like my movie, but no skin off may ass. The regular folks love it!" right? And yes, "regular folks" means white dudes. A quick scan of the reviews on Metacritic (where the series has a 40/100 critic score) suggests that the general feeling is that the show is boring, takes itself too seriously, and probably would have been better as a two hour movie rather than an eight hour series. Which doesn't grab strike me as a case of effete reviewers failing to connect with "real America." 

But whatever. Like I said, I don't have an opinion about The Terminal List, Chris Pratt (who stars in it), or even James Carr. Well, ok, I don't have an opinion beyond the idea that he doesn't seem to quite get what critics do for a living. 

Although going on Tucker Carlson's show doesn't exactly endear me him to me either. 

What? I don't want to watch Andy
from Parks and Rec shoot people.

I mean, everything is about politics right now. Everything. But is it at all possible that people who professionally review film and television just didn't like his show because it's not very good? Dour, mediocre, and wooden are words used to describe it. I'm not saying that everyone who reviews things for Variety or Entertainment Weekly is, by virtue of their position, an authority, but then that's the point of a review aggregate. If twenty five professional critics all called The Terminal List m'eh, it's probably, you know, m'eh. 

That's not to say it's objective garbage. Again, I'm not going to watch it, but not because of Rotten Tomatoes. I'm not going to watch it because I don't need eight episodes of guys with beards and guns talking about sit reps and evacs. But some people like it. Some people like urethral sounding (don't look that up). The point is "viewers" are just that, viewers. They view. They're not more right because they like a thing. It's a critic's job to analyze and then form an educated option about a work's merit. That's not politics, that's just how reviews work.

And then all of us use this information to make the decision
that's right for us. Because that's how America works, Tucker.

Forewarned is forepaninked...

Move over climate change, COVID, and Republicans, Neptune may well be our doom.

Guess we're have to sacrifice a bull or something...

...which we could sacrifice to
Neptune. See? It all connects.

So to be clear, it's not Neptune, god of the seas who may destroy both our world, but rather Neptune the planet. According to Astrophysicists Garrett Brown and Hanno Rein, should a rogue star--which are just flying around the galaxy I guess--pass too close to Neptune, the impact on the stability of the entire solar system could be devastating. Like, Gyrs of devastating. His paper-huh? What's a Gyr? I don't know. I looked it up and it's a lumpy Indian cow. It's probably also some kind physics thing, but they don't pay me enough to dig any deeper. The point is it's devastating, shouldn't that be the take away here?

The Solar System is essentially a Jenga set
forty AU's in diameter, hurtling through the
cosmos at 448,000 mph. So sleep tight.

It all has to do with the gravitational pull such a star would exert. This pull would only need to cause as little as a 0.1 percent change in the ice giant's orbit to result in a disruption in the other planet's orbits. And it's not just Neptune. The physicists' simulations show that screwing with any of the planets' paths could cause the entire system to spin into chaos with planets smashing into one another. One scenario has Mars actually colliding with the Earth, so obviously it's time to panic, right?

Yes. But maybe not specifically about Brown and Rein's simulations. The likelihood of this actually happening is remote, even over the incredibly long lifespan of the Sun. That is, it's way more likely that the Sun will become a red giant and consume the Earth before anything like the above scenario happens. 

"So why even bother recycling?"

-us

"Why just panic when you can panic buy?"

-Americans

What a relief, right? Yes. Instead we should start panicking about this study by the Washington State Geological Survey which modeled the effects of a magnitude seven point five earthquake along the Seattle fault line and are predicting that it could cause tsunami waves more than twenty feet high. These waves would reach the city within minutes and last for hours undoubtably destroying Seattle and everyone in it. So, you know, be prepared. Somehow. At least that's according to the State's Department of Natural Resources, the Debby Downer of state government.

"Just to clarify, should the public put their
head between their knees before kissing
their asses goodbye or after?"

"[This study] was conducted to help local and state emergency managers and planners develop and refine response preparedness plans for a tsunami in the middle of Washington's largest population center and economic hub."

-Washington's Department of 

Natural Resources on the futility of hope

Wait, is there a way to prepare for a powerful earthquake immediately followed by twenty-foot tsunami waves? 

I'm all for preparedness, but they're talking about a repeating wall of water slamming into downtown Seattle again and again for three hours. It seems like the only way to be prepared is to pack up and move far away from Seattle as soon as possible. Like maybe join us here in drought-parched California, or move to hurricane alley. I hear the Yellowstone caldera is lovely. Or we could just all keep our fingers crossed that a loose star sends us crashing into Mars before the next COVID variant gets us.

Be sure to keep some canned goods, bottled water, and a
 crank radio on hand. None of this will help of course,
but it's nice to have something to do, you know?

Morton's The Steakhouse The Schadenfreude

Morton's The Steakhouse's Morton's
Legendary Sundae® which is just a regular 
ol'sundae but costs nineteen dollars.

Am I a petty, small person who delights in the discomfort of others? I hadn't thought so. But then Supreme Court Justice and sexual assault enthusiast--sorry, alleged--Brett Kavanaugh had to leave Morton's The Steakhouse and--yeah, Morton's The Steakhouse. Which, shouldn't it be Morton's Steakhouse? Or The Morton's Steakhouse? Look, I don't want to tell rich people how to rich, but that's a dumb name. Anyway, Justice Kavanaugh had to leave before desert and I checked and they have sundaes. Legendary sundaes. Sundaes that are presumably the very stuff of legend.

But did he at least get to finish his beer?

But why such a rush? You might ask. Because a group called Shutdown DC tipped off it's members to Kavanaugh's dinner plans and people showed up to show their displeasure at the recent Supreme Court decision in which Americans were robbed of their constitutionally protected right to reproductive health. They didn't, you know, do anything and Kavanaugh at no point even saw the protestors, but regardless he felt that his personal safety was in danger and ran out the back. After he finished his steak, but before desert. You know, because of the danger.

Pictured: the place to protest Dobbs v.
Jackson Women's Health Organization.
Ideally at a time when Brett Kavanaugh
is enjoying a steak dinner.

Incredibly and, one presumes un-ironically, Morton's The Steakhouse leapt to Kavanaugh's defense calling the protestors "unruly" and adding:

"Politics, regardless of your side or views, should not trample the freedom at play of the right to congregate and eat dinner. There is a time and place for everything. Disturbing the dinner of our customers was an act of selfishness and void of decency."

-Moton's The Steakhouse 

The Spokesperson

Nobody on the right gets to complain
about our protests ever again. Ever.

First of all, I'm not sure what constitutes unruly. They did call the restaurant and ask them to kick Kavanaugh out, but I mean, the restaurant could have--and did--say no. By all accounts the protest was peaceful. Perhaps far more peaceful than one might expect given that Brett "Settled Law" Kavanaugh was appointed by a President most of us voted against and who lied about his feelings on Roe v. Wade so that he could help overturn it. At worst, they just wanted to shout at him a little and ask for our fundamental rights and protections back. 

Above: Clarence and Ginny Thomas
laughing. You know, for now...

There is a time and place for everything, and this is exactly it. Republicans overturned Roe v. Wade, but did so by exploiting the electoral college and weakness in our system. What they didn't do is persuade a single American that we don't have a right to body autonomy or a right to marry the person we love or anything else on Clarance Thomas's "cherished and hard-won rights I'd like to strip away for funsies" list. It's like they just sort of assumed that if they took the Court we'd all accept a radical right-wing takeover, which, I mean, no. 

They were mistaken. And I'm truly sorry (no, I'm not) that Brett Kavanaugh's dinner plans were interrupted but I'm sure this isn't the last time something like this will happen. Outraged Americans protesting until we return to normalcy is what they've signed up for now. 

Seriously, did Republicans just think we were all just going to be cool with all this?