Don’t forget! Septembre 19th is Talk Like a Pirate Day!

In preparation:

My pirate name is:

Black Ethel Bonney

Like anyone confronted with the harshness of robbery on the high seas, you can be pessimistic at times. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate’s life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

If you had problems getting here earlier, it’s because my webhost is in LA, so I got knocked down by the power outage there.

I, of course, did not realize that iPowerWeb was in LA, so now I feel like I should back up my entire website, just in case California falls into the sea.

This sign makes me happy.

This came in under the radar.

A federal appeals court yesterday backed the president’s power to indefinitely detain a U.S. citizen captured on U.S. soil without any criminal charges, holding that such authority is vital during wartime to protect the nation from terrorist attacks.

If you aren’t frightened by this, then you aren’t paying attention.

The key is here:

The ruling limits the president’s power to detain Padilla to the duration of hostilities against al Qaeda, but the Bush administration has said that war could go on indefinitely.

The government now has the right to lock you up and throw away the key solely because it says you are a threat.

Remember: Just because you aren’t a threat now, doesn’t mean you won’t be a threat in the future.

Thanks to Tom I was alerted to the existence of “Serenity” the comic books.

So yesterday I made my first purchase of a comic book. I’ve previously picked up a series that had been bound into a graphic novel, but this is an honest to God comic book and Michael made me write the check. However, Gary only had 1 and 3, so I’m waiting for 2. But Michael gets to read them first, to let me know whether they’re cliffhangers or if I can go ahread and read them.

Shiny!

I’m not the most fashion conscious person in the world (fashion inept would be closer to the mark), but I’m pretty sure that you aren’t supposed to wear spangles and shiny fabrics until after dark. And I’ve even more sure that gold sequined purses don’t go with jeans, a baggy t-shirt, and flip flops. Especially at 7:30 in the morning. I mean, it looks like they’re doing some bizarre mutation of the walk of shame, where they lost everything except their purse, and had to steal clothes from wherever they woke up.

But it could just be me missing the new fashion trends.

If I were an animal, I would be a magpie, because I am easily distra… Ooh! Look! Bright shiny object!

For his birthday I got Michael Firefly on DVD. I’d heard good things about it, and we liked Buffy and Angel, so I figured that Michael would probably like it.

All I have to say is, I do not understand the television industry at all. We didn’t like this show—we LOVED it.

How on earth did Firefly get cancelled after only half a season? It’s FANTASTIC! I can’t gush enough, so you’ll have to imagine the fangirl squeals of excitement, and how I’m waving my hands about for emphasis.

Seriously though, I don’t get it. Why was Firefly cancelled? I love the stories, the cast is wonderful—amazing even, the premise is great. It’s one of the most believable science fiction shows I’ve ever seen. From the pilot the characters seemed solid, and their interactions were wonderful. (Alan Tudyk and Gina Torres—perfect. Gina Torres is gorgeous and kicks butt and Alan Tudyk is hilarious.)

I am beyond ready for Serenity to come out. I’ve already started watching them a second time, because I want more, but have to settle for watching them a second time. I mean, I’ve totally geeked out over this show. (Exhibit 1: My wallpaper.

So if you haven’t already seen it, I highly recommened Firefly. Now pardon me while I go stare at more pictures.

Sorry I’ve stayed silent, but just haven’t have anything I wanted to say.

However, I figure the longer I stay silent, the harder it will be to start writing again.

But now, to bed. For the morning is wiser than the evening.

For obvious reasons I’ve been thinking about disasters this week, and survival following disasters.

It was the post about jump bags at Making Light that really got me thinking though. Because if there is a major disaster, where I live is where people are going to be fleeing to. We’re 180 miles (or less) from Baltimore and DC, so this is where my relatives there should end up. Sure Morgantown has a river, however as anyone whose spent any time here knows, everything is uphill, so even a major flood would affect only a small part of town.

The biggest “natural disaster” threat to this area is mine subsidence, and that’s hardly natural. No hurricanes. Tornadoes are rare. I supposed that a terrorist attack could happen, but I find it highly unlikely. Hitting West (by God) Virginia, known primarily poverty and unemployment, doesn’t seem like much of a political statement.

But that’s not what has upset me and shaken me to the very core.

The biggest threat I’m likely to face is riots. We’ve had an influx of REALLY stupid students in recent years. Ones who think that destruction of private property is fun and amusing. I live just a few blocks from the stadium on the edge of student areas (my neighbors are grandmothers in one direction, and students in the other) I’m not in Sunnyside but close enough. I’d like to think that people are smarter and better than my worst fears imagine them to be, but I’m not that naïve.

The more I’ve contemplated this, the more I wonder if my thoughts of purchasing a gun should become more than a consideration. For years I’ve wanted to get a gun and to find a place where I can take up target shooting. Why? I like guns. They’re loud and there’s something deeply satisfying about firing them that feeds my destructive impulses.

So what’s the big deal?

The big deal is that I’m a professed pacifist. Have been for years. (We’ll pretend that the fact that I’m a huge weakling had nothing to do with it.) And if I’m completely honest with myself, part of the reason I’m a pacifist is because I can have a really vicious temper. If someone angers me, part of my mind takes great delight in imagining really awful things to do to them, while another part of my mind screeches in horror and sings tunelessly in an attempt to drown out the vindictive part.

The easiest way to control that viciousness is to tell myself that I am never justified in taking action. If someone wants to start a fight, I walk away. The impulse to punch annoying twits in the face is taken out back and drowned in a bucket.

And for the most part I’m really good burying these impulses and–excluding a few minor lapses–can pretty easily avoid such thoughts.

Until now.

Now I have to consider what steps I would take to protect me and mine. Would I take the cats and my husband and run to safety? Or would I stay and try to protect my home and my neighbors?

And what happens to me if I do that?

How do I continue to suppress these impulses once I’ve let the genie out of the bottle?

Chief Justice Rehnquist has died

The tragedy that is New Orleans and Mississippi has left me with nothing to say.

I don’t have anything constructive to add, and the more news I read, the less I feel amused and amusing.

ADDENDUM the First:
What you should have in your jump kit.

I’ve always been fascinated by crime. The first grown-up books I really remember reading here ‘The Complete Sherlock Holmes’ and Agatha Christie’s ‘A Carribean Mystery’ (followed quickly by any Miss Marple mystery I could get my hands on).

In college I started out in Sociology in the Crime and Justice track, but eventually realized that my increasing pacifism wasn’t going to work well with a career in law enforcement, and so I ended up with only a minor in Sociology and a degree in Biology (almost all plant classes amusingly enough).

Yet I kept the love of mysteries, despite the fact that I’d make a terrible detective: I don’t know how many steps there are between the first and second floors, despite the fact that I go up and down the stairs every day. And even if I counted the stairs I’m certainly I’d immediately forget the number. I’m no good at paying attention to detail either–at least the kind of detail that would make me a useful witness. Though if the criminal was badly dressed wearing a t-shirt with a grammatically incorrect phrase I’d be more useful.

I did take something away from all my reading and classes however. When my lunch partners are busy and I walk by myself at lunch, I find myself considering security.

As I walk past open, empty offices I notice how easy it would be to step in and then step back out with papers and personal items left unguarded. I look into empty labs, and think how easy it would be to walk away with equipment and chemicals. I also like to consider escape routes if I were being chased by a crazed criminal of some sort. Unfortunately, my best plan requires me to be a good bit stronger than I currently am, so I guess I’d better refrain from being chased by a crazed criminal any time soon.

But mostly I just walk and look and notice that many people make a point not to pay attention to those around them, and consider how easy is to walk somewhere and look like you belong.

Brock Peters died on 23 August 2005

The article doesn’t mention that he also played Joseph Sisko on DS9.