Walking Dead

I watched the season finale of the Walking Dead and have to say, the show delivered again. The ability of the writers, director and the cast to capture and maintain a tremendous sense of intense suspense in this show is amazing. Its real horror, a terror of the unknown; its not chainsaws and wether or not you'll gouge your eye out with a spoon to get a key (a mind numbingly stupid concept from Saw I, II or III where the evil villain did ocular surgery on the victim, removed his eye, put a small key behind it and put the eye back in with such skill that the victim couldn't feel any pain, didn't notice a hunk of metal in his face and he could still see perfectly).

There are times that the talking begins to wear on you, the constant discussions, but if one steps back to think about it, if you were in that situation every decision you make is life or death, you might be more deliberative. Its interesting to watch the boy, Carl, learning the lesson that the evil Governor, learned; kill or risk greater death. Where do you draw the line? Who do you? and whose lives do you risk when you try to save someone?

The show keeps you on edge, wondering and waiting. The scenes are tense and the action explosive. Great show. The season finale does not let you down either. Its explosive; hard to watch because it has, like almost all these shows, loss and tragedy.

Michael Whelan

The cover piece for Thuvia Maid of Mars, one of my favorite stories in the Barsoom series by Edgar Rice Burroughs. His stories stand up as some of the most unique and original tales of high adventure, both in their simplicity .  . . Burroughs always got to the point, not dwelling on the particulars of how things like John Cater going to Mars actually happened, but getting to the meat of the tale . . .  action, and direction.

The first two are the best, Princess of Mars and Gods of Mars; both of which have left echoes in my mind so that when I have a quiet moment I can capture the imagery of those tales of high adventure.

Word of the Day -- Numen

Numen... not to be confused with Jerry's neighbor and nemesis on Seinfeld:  Newman! 

No, numen means: a spiritual force or influence often identified with a natural object, phenomenon, or place and has an interesting derivation.  Originally a Latin term meaning "nod of the head," it came to be associated with spiritual power. The ancient Romans saw divine force and power operating in the inanimate objects and nonhuman phenomena around them. They believed that the gods had the power to command events and to consent to actions, and the idea of a god nodding suggested his or her awesome abilities—divine power. Eventually, Latin speakers began using "numen" to describe the special divine force of any object, place, or phenomenon that inspired awe (a mystical-seeming wooded grove, for example, or the movement of the sun), and "numen" made the semantic leap from "nod" to "divine will or power." English speakers adopted the word during the 1600s.

Daily Cosplay

Raglan Castle

In Wales a small manor sat within the village of Raglan for many long years. In the 1400 the manor was bought by Sir William Thomas who began the construction of a castle where the manor sat. The castle was expanded by his son; both made the castle comfortable but defensible as well.

Later in the English Civil war the castle landed on the side of the Royalists and after several months of siege surrendered to the Parlimentarians. Their commander ordered the destruction of the castle, but after knocking down a few walls the castle was left alone, largely in tact, where it has sat ever since.

Excalibur

The best scene in the movie . . . well one of them . . .

Armor Up

Modeling Board

Bioengineering...Termite Style

For years circles have been appearing in the grasslands of south east Africa; these circles dot the landscape, the grass dying out within them, making for perfect circles of desolation. Generally called Faerie Circles their origins have remained unknown for some time.

However, recently a gang of German scientists uncovered the mystery. . . it wasn't a gang, just one dude, Norbert Juergens, but in for a penny in for a pound I always say . .  . . It would seem that termites have been farming. After the rain, any new grass that crops up they kill it, eating the roots. This allows the rain water to remain in the ground and the termites to want for nothing, even in the hottest of summers.  After awhile large tufts of grass grow up around the nest, living high on the water that the termites have cultivated.

Read more.

I suspect we'll be doing this for the ground water on Mars before too long.

Upon the Wings of a Dove

Walking Might be Easier

So in France it seems they are experimenting with using drones to deliver the mail. Some 20 drones are being issued to 20 different postal workers. Each postal worker will load the drone, send it to the house and then bring the drone back, reload and on to next house . . . and so on.

This is an interesting concept; not sure how practical it is. First drone to misfire and crash into someone's truck, or accidentally dump mail in the yard . . . of course I suppose that's no different than a mail man tripping in the muddy yard and dumping one's mail on the ground.

Interesting stuff. Read more.

post script: I've noticed that my mail men are always talking on their blue tooth now while they are delivering the mail. Always. Which is cool, I suppose it gets lonely out there (though I can't imagine such a thing), but I do wonder who in the sam hill are they talking to for 8 hours? Other mail men?

Word of the Day -- Lugubrious

Lugubrious means mournful, dismal.  Sad to the nth degree...

"It is a consolation to the wretched to have companions in misery," wrote Publilius Syrus in the first century BC. Perhaps this explains why "lugubrious" is so woeful—it's all alone. Sure, we can dress up "lugubrious" with suffixes to form "lugubriously" or "lugubriousness," but the word remains essentially an only child—the sole surviving English offspring of its Latin ancestors. This wasn't always the case, though. "Lugubrious" once had a linguistic living relative in "luctual," an adjective meaning "sad" or "sorrowful." Like "lugubrious," "luctual" traced ultimately to the Latin verb "lugēre," meaning "to mourn." "Luctual," however, faded into obsolescence long ago, leaving "lugubrious" to carry on the family's mournful mission all alone.