In a semi-successful effort to rouse myself from a ‘holy crap, the world is scary’ funk, I brought another simmering project to a boil. I’m calling this a double EP (too short for an album, in my mind) – for historio-educational use only, please allow me to present Déjà Vu All Over Again. Right-clicking on the front cover will allow you to download a zip file.
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[All hail COOP, whose Bloodclot mix remains my fave road music.]
Most times, when I’m on the marsh I’m concentrating – paying attention to a falcon and some ducks. The tide was all wrong this morning and there’s a storm rolling in now that the water is more cooperative (mid-afternoon), so I thought I’d just go for a stroll, scout things a bit and take in the marsh in a slightly more relaxed frame of mind.
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English Russia is one of those blogs I check once in a blue moon, then kick myself for not subscribing to their RSS feed. As Bullwinkle says, “This time, fur sure!” Three wicked pisser posts, among many.
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These days is a great day for the dwellers of Northern regions of Russia. The polar night lasting many days before when the Sun didn’t come above the horizon and the land was covered with the darkness ends. People come from all the regions to celebrate.
The main fun during celebration is the deer race. People bring their best deers and race, race, race. The looser deers are being eaten then, like, they did not satisfy the expectations, giving the big meals to everyone.
No mention of amanita, but a boy can hope…
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A French explorer Guillaume Herbaut has found a group of amazons hiding in the woods of Ukraine. They live together, dress like locals, study martial arts and their idol is Ukrainian lady minister Julia Timoshenko.
No mention of White Tights, but a boy can hope…
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Photoshop awesomeness.
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Special God’s Holy Trousers Edition
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Two empires meet in one of the most interesting places on the planet.
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First up – and oldest – the kukri. I first encountered this knife in the classified ads of Field and Stream, Outdoor Life, etc. back in the days when the ads also featured squirrel monkeys (I wish I could remember the name of one importer – I had a price list – their motto was “xx years in the monkey business”) and get rich quick chinchilla ranching schemes. In spite of that somewhat inauspicious intro the kukri immediately took it’s place in my little pantheon of cool edged tools and never left.
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The origin of the kukri is open to debate – my favorite theory is that Alexander the Great brought it east (the kopis) when he invaded India. Tying Alexander’s empire to a more recent one are, of course, the Gurkhas. A more indirect link to someone of note – the kukri is also common in Kumaon – Corbett, anyone?
What to match the kukri with? The Martini-Henry rifle is one candidate, but I’m going with something that could hang on a web belt near the knife – the Webley Revolver. More even than the Martini, the Webley, in a service holster with a lanyard round the officer’s neck, is for me the essence of British colonial militaria.
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There you have it – Alexander and Victoria meet in northern India and Nepal as Daniel and Peachie are tromping through the Khyber pass on their way to Kafiristan. A picture from much later showing a Gurkha paratrooper kitted out with what I’m assuming is a Webley – the kukri is there – you just can’t see it.
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Fun fact – the pistol Sean Connery carries in his finest film role – as Zed – is a Webley-Fosbery Automatic Revolver (automatic revolvers are, IMHO, a solution in search of a problem, but interesting nevertheless).
I discovered Anonymous Postcard via a tweet from @MarsPhoenix. What does AP do? From the FAQ:
Anyone who wants to express feedback to any third party submits a claim. Claims can take the form of praise, suggestions or criticism. We process the most compelling claims by turning them into postcards and then figure out the best person to send them to. We post images of what we sent along with the original claim in the gallery.
What does it look like in practice?
To: His Excellency Mr Robert Mugabe, Harare
Claim:
Congratulations on ending the cholera epidemic in Zimbabwe! Let’s toast the occasion together with a glass of local tap water!
(By the way, we’re glad to see the new house has been completed.)
Resulting postcard:
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To: The City of London
Claim:
I counted 36 cranes on your skyline on October 17, 2008. That’s too many.
Result:
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First – an excellent post – Hunting and Fishing Like Adults – over at Patrick’s place. Coincidentally, I recently watched the No Reservations ep where Frances Mallman talks about patience – an underrated virtue in today’s world.
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Second – S. Clay Wilson bashed his head (badly), got pneumonia and spent a bunch of time in ICU in November (via BB). He’s out now and there are some benefit concerts coming up for those on the west coast. If you don’t know his work already, Wilson is one of the greats of underground comix – his stuff is not for everyone – the amount of sex and violence is way high, but he’s a favorite of mine.
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Third – this map:
has been getting a lot of notice on the web (here, here and here). I find myself firmly in the pointing and laughing camp – New Hampshire and South Carolina? That’s beyond “he’s smoking something” and well into industrial strength CIA hallucinogen testing protocols. Georgia goes to Mexico? *shakes head*
The girl from Port Arthur.
Ball and Chain.
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Down on Me
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Wow. I get back from a multiday bird hunting trip to find that Steve has tagged me as a superior scribbler. To say that I’m emproudened would be an understatement. I’ve been reading Steve since the mid-80’s, when A Rage for Falcons first came out and the other bloggers he tags are damn high quality reads – I feel like the odd guy out. Hasn’t stopped me from doing a little (internal) swaggering around, though – I plan on continuing to enjoy the recognition.
My five picks for Superior Scribblers:
This year’s Halloween movie picks?
I read (ages ago – it may have been when American Werewolf in London was first released) a review in the Boston Phoenix that slotted the three big horror subgenres into corresponding childhood trauma. Frankenstein calls out the fear of parental rejection, the werewolf evokes the loss of control attendant upon adolescence, and I’ll be damned if I can remember what vampires linked to. As a result, I’ll be without critical foundation as I watch Brides of Dracula – ah, well – I’ll just have to enjoy it as entertainment. Orgy of the Dead is another matter altogether – will it be good-bad or unwatchable even with the promised !Topless Dancers!? Time will tell.
