The Joy of Eight

In which each player lists eight facts/habits about themselves, the rules of the game being posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed, eight people tagged at the end of the post, listing their names. The player then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read his blog.

In this post, I am to list eight facts/habits about myself, and I’m tempted to list such banal observations as my possession of ten fingers and two ears. No matter what you think about me, I do in fact have ten fingers and, though I can’t see them at the moment, I also have two ears. What else is there to know about me?

  1. Here’s a deep one. Though I believe a newish pair of khakis shrunk an inch in the wash, I still wear them. I look silly in them sometimes, but I am silly sometimes so maybe it fits me perfectly.
  2. Like Lars, I have read The Lord of the Rings aloud to my wife, children, and sister-in-law–The Hobbit and part of The Silmarillion too.
  3. I also read The Man Who Was Thursday off the Internet to my fabulous wife, and my oldest girl, who was three or four, heard part of it and asked to hear it again a little later. She is so cute.
  4. I wear size 11.5 shoes and currently own two pair of ECCO brand. They have been great, comfortable shoes, but when they wear out, I think I’ll buy something cheap. Maybe a penny-loafer.
  5. I am in the habit of rising promptly with my morning alarm and falling asleep in a chair a few minutes later, sometimes bending over in such a way that my arms or legs go to sleep too. I’m trying to break that habit.
  6. I work as an in-house graphic designer for CBMC.
  7. Sometime this year, I hope to start a fight in the steel cage at iStockphoto. I don’t have the skills for it yet. The photo editing I did a little while back–kid’s stuff.
  8. In college, a friend and I wrote a little murder mystery for our friends to role-play. It didn’t come off the way I wanted, but it was fun, so I supposed we succeeded in our first time at role-playing a story. My co-writer got herself murdered because she knew who the real criminal was and wanted to see all of the action, so she pursued him, not thinking she could easily become a victim.

Tags: Jared of Thinklings (and whatever other blogs he plants)

Philip of Thinklings

Mark Bertrand

Gaius at Blue Crab Boulevard

Kevin of Collected Miscellany

Scott, who is the nameless warrior

Amy of Books, Words, and Writing

and You. Leave a comment to let me know where you post your list. (Most links removed because they ain’t good no longer.)

A kiss is still a kiss… I think

Listening to talk show host Laura Ingraham in the mornings doesn’t usually lower my spirits, but today was just depressing.

She made a comment about guys who don’t know how to kiss. “They’re the worst,” she said, if I remember correctly.

Cut me to the quick, that one did.

Now I know how liberals feel, getting personally attacked on talk radio.

The issue never actually came up in my life, social phobic that I am, until the time I played Tony in “You Can’t Take It With You,” (Jimmie Stewart played him in the movie version, because I was unavailable [that is, not yet born] at the time). I’d always assumed that the thing must be fairly easy, but the mechanics gave me unexpected trouble. I’d never realized that you had to do something about The Nose In the Way Problem.

I’m sure the woman who played Alice thought I was a complete dork.

I’m also sure she was right.

But as far as Laura Ingraham is concerned, I now begin to see the logic behind the Fairness Doctrine. If that rule were in place, maybe I could go on the air and offer a spirited defense of socially handicapped dorks everywhere. Call for a federal program or something.

In closing, I offer this link to a brilliant recent post on the Iowahawk blog. I’ve been meaning to share it for several days, and it’s as good a way as any to close out this embarrassing post.

“Then the Earth Reeled and Rocked”

Psalm 18 (English Standard Version)

To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David, the servant of the LORD, who addressed the words of this song to the LORD on the day when the LORD rescued him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul. He said:

1I love you, O LORD, my strength.

2The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,

my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,

my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

3I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,

and I am saved from my enemies.

4The cords of death encompassed me;

the torrents of destruction assailed me;

5the cords of Sheol entangled me;

the snares of death confronted me.

6In my distress I called upon the LORD;

to my God I cried for help.

From his temple he heard my voice,

and my cry to him reached his ears.

7Then the earth reeled and rocked;

the foundations also of the mountains trembled

and quaked, because he was angry.

Continue reading “Then the Earth Reeled and Rocked”

Point of Impact, by Stephen Hunter

I said a little about Stephen Hunter’s Point of Impact a few posts back, and I told you I was enjoying it quite a lot.

That was an understatement.

Now, I suppose that’s old news to many of you. I expect I’m far behind the curve (as is so often the case), since this book and its sequels and collaterals have been out for a while. So this review would probably better be called an appreciation. I just want to babble a little about how much I enjoyed Point of Impact, and to share my priceless insights on why I think it’s so great.

The chief beauty here is that the book is centered on a strong, well-rounded, sympathetic hero. If you’ve been reading this blog for any time at all you know I think character is king, and Bob Lee Swagger, the hero of this book, is a hero and a half. I don’t think there’s been a straight-ahead, singleminded, admirable main guy like this since Louis L’Amour died, and L’Amour wasn’t as good a writer as Hunter (I speak as an admirer of L’Amour).

Bob Lee Swagger of Blue Eye, Arkansas is everything books and movies and television have been teaching us to despise for most of my lifetime. He’s a white southerner. His formal education is limited. He’s ex-military, and he loves his guns. He also loves his country, to the point where he destroys evidence that might clear him of a capital accusation, because its release might make America look bad.

Swagger is approached by a mysterious pair of strangers, obviously former soldiers, who offer him a short-term job. They want him to test some new ammunition, they say. His testimonial would be valuable to them, as he was a legendary Marine sniper in Vietnam.

He does the job, and the ammunition is good. But something isn’t right. Bob Lee is not only a shooter, he’s a hunter of men. His hunter’s sense tells him they’re not telling him the full truth, but they entice him with a lure he can’t resist—there’s a plot to kill the president, they say, and the shooter coming in to do the job is a Russian, a famous sniper whom the Vietnamese brought in to take out Bob Lee himself during the war. That sniper crippled Bob Lee and killed his spotter. Bob Lee’s job will be to figure out where the attack will come, and to help them prevent it.

Of course it all goes south from there. Before long Bob Lee is on the run, wounded and the target of a nationwide manhunt.

Another great character is Nick Memphis, an FBI agent who first hunts Bob Lee, and then forms an alliance with him. Nick was a sniper too, years back. He tried to take out a criminal who was holding several women hostage. But he missed the shot and paralyzed a hostage. He married the woman and nursed her for the rest of her life. It doesn’t seem to have ever occurred to him to do anything else.

Even the villains are entirely believable and realistically motivated.

And the women—the women in this book are solid gold, Tammy Wynette, “Stand By Your Man,” grand ladies. They may have moments of envy for the easier lives enjoyed by women who chose lesser men, but they know that they could have had that kind of man if they’d wanted one. (I suppose these women are as much fantasy characters as Bond Girls in the movies. But it’s a whole ‘nother kind of fantasy.)

The plotting is flawless. Tension grows and grows as Bob Lee’s enemies’ plans unfold, and he finds the whole world more and more against him. Yet he never loses his nerve. He never gives up—even with a bullet hole in his chest.

I couldn’t help thinking of James Bond as I read Point of Impact. Like a Bond movie (the books not so much), this novel presents a vision of manhood that most of us can only dream of.

The difference is that, after reading Point of Impact, I wanted to be a better man than I am.

As you’d expect, there’s mature subject matter and harsh language. But I recommend Point of Impact for every grownup man. I have no idea what women think of it.

Meme of 8

Beautiful day, if a little windy. The temperature is in the 70s, and it looks like tomorrow will be much the same.

Walking through the park this evening, I saw a man standing all by himself, practicing some kind of dance that called for stomping his feet with his knees bent and making elaborate motions with his arms.

I envy him his lack of self-consciousness.

But only that.

Sherry at Intellectuelle has tagged Phil and me with an Eight Things meme. These are the rules:

Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

Hmm, that’s a challenge. Not to write eight things about myself, it goes without saying, but to try to think of eight things about myself I haven’t told you already. Two or three times.

But let’s give it a shot.

1. I’m not a genius. That ought to be a no-brainer (to put it weirdly), but some people seem to have gotten that impression, probably because of my intellectual arrogance. My IQ, at the last testing, was 126. A nice, comfortable upper-middle range figure, but nothing that would get me into MENSA.

2, I have a rather nice singing voice. Indeed, I spent nine years with an obscure Christian musical group. However I have a lousy ear and no ability whatever to play an instrument.

3. I’ve visited Norway 4 times, and have gotten as far north as the North Cape. I’ve also visited Iceland once, and I’ve been to the Leif Eriksson archaeological site at L’Anse Aux Meadows, Newfoundland.

4. On the American side, I’ve visited Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace, his childhood home in Indiana, and his home in New Salem, Illinois. I’ve also been to Ford’s Theater, and the Peterson House across the street where he died. Oh yes, I’ve also visited a house in Tennessee built by Davy Crockett, and Wild Bill Hickok’s grave in Deadwood.

5. In community theater, in Florida, I played Mordred in Camelot, Prof. Moriarty in a Sherlock Holmes play, the leads in both Larry Shue’s comedies, “The Foreigner” and “The Nerd,” Tony in “You Can’t Take It With You,” Crichton in “The Admirable Crichton,” and Clive in “Write Me a Murder.” I also did a local TV commercial for kitchen fans.

6. My personality is almost entirely synthetic, by which I mean it’s man-made. I wasn’t born programmed to be the man I am. As a child (I’m told), I was happy, outgoing and talkative. I grew up to be depressive, introverted and famously taciturn. The difference came because certain people in my life didn’t like my original personality and set about changing it, with complete success.

7. I once read the entire Lord of the Rings out loud (to my roommate). But not in one sitting.

8. I can wiggle my ears.

As is my custom, I shall not tag anyone with this meme.

Winnie The Pooh on Writing with Clarity

“It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn’t use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like ‘What about lunch?'” says Pooh. This reminds me of something I said yesterday, that if you need a full article to define one word then you may not understand the word. Simplicity promotes understanding. Roy expands on Pooh’s words and points to more advice from the Bear with Little Brain. This link is to Roy’s blog, “Writing, Clear and Simple.” Roy’s other blog is “Dispatches from Outland”.

Guest-Blogger Makes List

Carrie Frye, who regularly blogs at Tingle Alley, is guest-blogging on About Last Night and she has posted a list of 5×5 books. Make sure you note her departure post on Tingle Alley with photos of Jacob’s Meat Market, a place to get German-style Own Made (not homemade) sausage. I’m not that fond of sausage, but this looks like a great experience.

“Kill the wabbit!”

I hate to admit it, but I actually had a pretty good weekend. I know that’s a disappointment to those of you who come to this blog for a daily fillip of angst, alienation, futility and despair, but even I can’t maintain perfect consistency all my life.

Saturday was quiet and uneventful, which suits me just fine. Picked up a couple needed items at Kmart and had lunch at my regular Chinese buffet. Took my renter’s door off its hinges and shaved the top down so it would close better. I discovered then that there remains yet another problem—the latch won’t engage in the hole in the striker plate. Which means I’m going to have to figure out how to move that hole just a whisker.

Whoever painted that door has much to answer for.

Sunday was, as I mentioned on Friday, Norway Day at Minnehaha Park. I first attended Norway Day in 1980 (I remember because I was attending Brown Institute of Broadcasting at the time). I was living in an apartment house just up the street. I walked down there on a Sunday afternoon just to get some fresh air, and lo and behold, My Own Tribe had gathered. It was a pretty big event, with lots of vendors and food stands, and they’d brought in a folk dancing group from Norway for entertainment.

I went back the first year I was back from Florida, and it was much the same.

But in the years since, the event has shriveled visibly. I don’t think it’s just because the old people are dying off and the young people are all half German now. I suspect there’s some tragic story of organizing groups finally reaching the breaking point and saying what they really think, and people taking their fish balls and going home.

I hope the decline hasn’t been due to the presence of the Viking Age Club & Society in the last few years.

At this point our encampment is almost half the event.

We’re crowd-pleasers, though. Our combats gathered enthusiastic crowds, and I think we gave them a pretty good show. It was only Eric and me this time, and I’m happy to report that I was on my game and beat him about three out of four bouts in two presentations. He missed the chance to get his revenge in the third, when the sky darkened, somebody opened a giant refrigerator door, and heavy rain cut loose on us and set everybody to tearing down tents, packing vehicles and driving away.

We needed the rain, though.

I also did a decoration job on the sheath of my new saex. I’m pretty happy with the results:

Sheath tooled

As a final note, I’d fail in my predictability (and render this post’s title meaningless) if I didn’t note that this week is the 50th Anniversary of what many consider the greatest cartoon short ever made, “What’s Opera Doc?” featuring Elmer Fudd and Bugs Bunny doing Wagner. They tell me it’s much more impressive on a big screen. But it’s funny even on YouTube.

Prescription for sick church

Dr. Chris Hook says, “To be most blunt, the American church generally . . . can at most charitably be described as apostate, idolatrous, narcissistic, materially self-indulgent, has sold its soul to a civic religion that has attempted to democratize God’s Kingdom, and is the most pathetically ignorant . . . since the English Reformation.”