It’s been another one of those random months, so I might as well give in to it and go with the flow…
What I’m Watching on YouTube: No, it’s not Gangnam Style…much. It’s tabletop games. These were a staple in my house growing up in those antediluvian times when electronic calculators were a novelty. Many a slow evening hour in the hinterlands of Iowa and Ohio were consumed in Monopoly, Scrabble, Clue, Mille Bornes, Pit, Trouble, Parcheesi, Chinese Checkers, Checkers-Checkers, Chess, Risk, etc, etc, etc. I’ve had small luck turning my kids on to the joys of video-less games powered by dice and quick wits, but in the meantime, the games themselves have grown up a little bit and are enjoying a renaissance of sorts. A few weeks ago, I stumbled onto an ongoing YouTube video series hosted by
Wesley Crusher Wil Wheaton, called, logically enough, Tabletop. In each installment, Wil gathers a few geeky pals and lower-mid-list celebrities to play a round of Arkham Horror, Smallworld, Ticket to Ride, Settlers of Catan, or whatever. It’s a fun 20 minutes or so, an entertaining introduction to the various games, and a reminder of how much fun it can be to spend some face-to-face time with family or friends, just playing.
What I’m Watching on Netflix: Lost. Six flippity-dippin’ seasons worth. Somehow or other, the original broadcast wasn’t scheduled when my television was turned on. That’s probably a good thing, as I would have, er, lost six productive years of my life waiting to find out what in the name of H.G. Wells was really going on. No, the island isn’t finished with me yet.
“We don’t serve your party here!”
The Silly Season: Time for another general election, and my enthusiasm for politics is waning with every passing year. I was soured on the whole business during my high school years, when I attended the California edition of Boys’ State, in which teenage males gather in Sacramento to form a mock government and deliver all manner of ridiculous ultimatums to the real government, whose representative then pats them on their collective head. A rather nasty political machine was already firmly ensconced by the time I arrived from my provincial hometown. In sum, it was like being on the city council of Mos Eisley Spaceport, and I realized that involvement in politics, for me at least, would imperil my immortal soul. Never again. Wake me up when it’s over, so I can greet our new or continuing Robotic Overlords. Yes, I do have political opinions, yes, I exercise my precious right to vote, and yes, I will vote in the upcoming election, early and often.
Just kidding about the “often” part, I swear.
Shambala: Random. Nothing to see here.
All Your Galas Are Belong to Us: There was a minor kerfluffle at the American Christian Fiction (formerly Romance) Writers convention two weeks ago.
Kerfluffle. I love that word. “It is a large, good word, and will bear repetition.” It’s also endearingly random.
Anyhow, A group of ACFW members who happened to be speculative fiction writers, rather than the standard purveyors of historical romance, arrived in costume at the Awards Gala, and some were turned away to re-suit, with “security concerns” the stated reason. Paraphrasing liberally:
ACFW Staffer: “Good heavens! This man looks like a terrorist, and that other fellow might be hiding explosives in his…paws.”
“We are not amused.”
SF-er sporting Spock Ears: “In that case, madam, it would be logical for you to allow us a peek beneath your voluminous hoop skirt, which has ample room for all manner of ordnance.”
ACFW Staffer: “SECURITY!!!”
Ahem. Christian conventions of any flavor are always fun if you enjoy watching a good fight where nobody really gets hurt and everybody makes up afterwards. Usually.
Cinnamon Dulce Latte: Smooth, decadent, and random.
The Space Colony the Universe Forgot: I’ve another brief vignette posted at the Avenir Eclectia shared-world project. “Contraband” continues the saga of Smith the Artful Dodger and his flock of orphan pickpockets, but this time, they’re entangled in a plot that could endanger the entire Avenir space station if the product they’re smuggling isn’t handled with extra care. Hey, it’s a gang of school-age kids. What could go wrong?
All she wants to do is dance, dance…
Angelina Ballerina: Random, but mandatory if you have a daughter or granddaughter.
That’s all for now. Maybe tonight I’ll find out if John Locke is really dead this time.