Ridley

Lost Long Weekend

Posted on 13 December, 202213 December, 2022 by Ridley

You’d think a 3-day weekend would, if not memorable, then at least relaxing. I know I would certainly would have. Alas, it was not to be, although it was still preferable to a short weekend in most ways. December is the busiest month at work, so even taking a vacation I tried to keep an eye on what was going on and had to jump in a couple of times. Nicole was unimpressed, and understandably so, but “having a job” is important so one does what one does. On Thursday, I had a remote meeting with my primary care doctor as the prescription for my heart meds had expired and this was the soonest they could see me. They re-jiggered the prescriptions, upping some of the dosages and adding some new wrinkles. I’m not certain exactly which of the changes caused the issue, but I had an unpleasant reaction on Friday night and it left me with a migraine all of Saturday and Sunday. This was a fairly common side-effect and not an emergency, but it did kind of take the wind out of my sails. Not only will I be talking to my GP sooner than expected, but I get to meet my new dermo next week. I went in a couple of months ago to get that prescription renewed and, now that my dermatologist has retired, that prescription can no longer be filled. Huzzah! They’re an hour and a half away so that’ll be fun. We had a scare with the cats (not sure which one), but I’ll spare you the gory details. All appears to be good on that front for now, but it made Sunday and Monday pretty nervy. With all of that, was I still productive? Nah. I did approximately nothing that I planned to do. The headache made me bail on a chance to see my old boss, something I was looking forward to. Didn’t get the holiday cards done. Didn’t get the writing I’d planned to do done, although I did come up with the second melodic section for a song I’m working on and banged on it so hard I’m pretty sure it’s committed to memory now. It’s a nice little earworm, so we’ll call that a win. So, that’s about it. This post is a bit crap too, which fits the weekend perfectly. Hope your weekend (and Monday) went a little better than mine. -RK

The Final Hellblazer Story Arc (my pitch)

Posted on 2 December, 20222 December, 2022 by Ridley

I find myself obsessed with some of the most pointless things. For example, I found the ending of the original run of the Hellblazer comic unsatisfying. I love me some Peter Milligan, but the way the series ended felt more like a hasty attempt to wrap things up in a suitably ambiguous fashion rather than allowing them to come to as natural a conclusion as a man like John Constantine could ever experience. I’ve spent many, many hours imagining a better end or, more accurately, how I would have ended it. Here are my thoughts on the subject. I’ve read every book in the series, some of them many times, so that’s where I’m coming from. If this isn’t your bag, feel free to skip this one. There was one huge loose end in Hellblazer, one that I always felt should have at the very least been acknowledged somewhere along the way. There was a being of incredible power who was treated very badly, undeservedly so in spite of their being an ass, and they were removed from the chess board and never mentioned again. Only, they weren’t really “removed” in any permanent sense. This being is the third most powerful in the order of created things behind only their creator and the one who rebelled against the creator. The archangel Gabriel was used by Constantine as an insurance policy against his soul being collected by the ruler of Hell. Constantine used a friendly succubus to seduce the angel and (literally) steal their heart. This resulted in Gabriel’s banishment from heaven and, with John holding his heart and threatening to destroy it and send the angel to Hell, they were forced to serve as Constantine’s bodyguard. Spoiler alert: There would be guilt. The first of the fallen (not Lucifer…nope, different character) found where the heart was hidden and destroyed it, and Gabriel fell to Hell. That is the last we ever hear of them. This is curious because Hell in this universe is a place of constant change. Demons and their ilk gain and lose power through schemes and brute force, but they seldom truly change their rank as demons are not known to be great at playing the long game. Hell rewards those who play the long game. Angels, on the other hand, are very much creatures of the long game. So, we have a fallen angel in Hell. This angel is already more powerful than any of the netherworld’s denizens, or, at least, they were and have the potential to be so again. This angel has motivation as well. They have been tricked by a demon, used as a lackey by a mortal man, shunned by Heaven, and damned to Hell, and Hell is the perfect place for a powerful, patient being with a grudge to accumulate power. Another aspect of Hell is that human souls are traded as something between a commodity and curios. This was established early in the series when Jamie Delano was doing a dark take on yuppie capitalism. Let’s bring that forward a few decades and there’s no reason to think that Hell’s stock market of the human soul wouldn’t have acquired some of humanity’s more exotic financial instruments*. Having long since determined that Constantine’s soul belongs to Hell but also will never be collected, it isn’t hard to imagine it becoming a much-traded thing. Fractions of it are traded among demonic investors (multiple claims on the same soul are also canon), and its ownership becomes so diluted that it’s almost impossible to determine which demon might have a prevailing claim. It’s become a “penny stock,” a “meme stock” if you will. A literal demonic stock exchange. Delano was good, but he wasn’t subtle. Now a particularly clever demon, perhaps even a fallen angel, might see this as an opportunity. The clever demon might recognize that trying to directly buy up all the slivers and fragments would bring unwanted attention, so that demon might play the long game and use cutouts and shell organizations and slowly, methodically, collect the outstanding shares in a myriad of seemingly-unrelated places before collecting them and showing their hand. Or perhaps this demon would simply acquire the claim to the soul through force if the demon were very, very powerful. In any event, the demon that was the archangel Gabriel is in Hell. The demon has the opportunity and means to become the holder of the claim on Constantine’s soul, and he has a bone to pick with our John. This is the state of play at the start of the story. Johnny may have forgotten Gabriel, but Gabriel as most definitely not forgotten Constantine. The former angel holds all of the cards and he is about to begin playing them. * Contrary to what you may have been taught in Sunday school, demons learn their wicked ways from humans, not vice-versa. Demons are not nearly as clever nor as wicked as we are. That’s the pitch. I have some beats mapped out as well, some unfortunate ends in store for old characters, and a few tricks for Constantine to play. It doesn’t end well, but I think it ends properly. One thing I really don’t want to do is introduce a batch of new characters. Not only was that the hallmark of some of the least-successful runs of the book, but it’s also a cheat to do that when wrapping things up. It feels right to me to make Gabriel the putative antagonist of the final arc; Hellblazer was always about John dealing with the (literal) ghosts of his past. They’ve seldom been able to touch him, but that threat has always been there. Gabriel is not only one of the many victims of John’s schemes, they’ve been in Heaven, Hell, and everywhere in between. There’s a lot to explore there.

7 Books (fiction)

Posted on 26 November, 202226 November, 2022 by Ridley

Over on the heffalump site, the hashtag of the moment is #7books. After making my list, I thought it’d be fun (for me, at least; your mileage may vary) to explain why they’re the seven that made a difference to me. Great photo you’re using there, Ridley 1. East of Eden by #JohnSteinbeck I’m always surprised when a classic lives up to the hype. I approach the “canon” novels with skepticism, but I found this novel to be absolutely brilliant. I find Steinbeck’s writing very “human” even though I struggle to describe what I mean by that. He’s deeply affectionate towards people and towards…what makes people “people,” if that makes any sense. What puts this novel on the list is not just that it’s a fine story expertly told; it’s the core message: No matter what has happened to you in the past, no matter your circumstances, you always have the freedom to choose to do right. This hurt me when I first read it. I had a stack of excuses for being shitty and I was forced to face the fact that none excused my shittiness. Oof. 2. Small Gods by #TerryPratchett This was my first Discworld novel and it remains my favorite. It’s hilarious, of course, as are most of Pratchett’s novels, and his skewering of both the falsely religious and the gods themselves is spot-on. It’s the ending, though. The coda. I’ve never read a book that stuck the landing as gracefully. I got to meet Sir Terry at a book signing. We exchanged a sentence or two and he signed my copy of Small Gods and even drew a turtle in it. He was, by some margin, the most mesmerizing speaker of all the writers I’ve encountered. He was funny and humble, and utterly delightful. Make me sad just thinking of the loss, but that might be the snifter of ruby port in front of me talking. 3. The Brothers Karamazov by #FyodorDostoevtsky My freshman ethics professor was an ass. He didn’t teach from textbooks. He said “I don’t care what Joe Blow has to say about Plato; I want to teach what Plato actually said.” So, instead of textbooks, we read the original sources, which was amazing. Of course, we were freshmen and because of that, we weren’t the most critical of readers. The professor’s favorite trick was to expose us to one philosopher or novelist, let us soak in what they’d written, and then when we were convinced, turn around and attack those same ideas we’d found so convincing. It was truly a brilliant class. Anyway, we only read the two chapters from The Brothers Karamazov, but that was enough. It blew me away to realize that what we’d been taught in high school, that novels consisted of theme and mood and plot and style, was total crap. Novels were about things, but we couldn’t talk about them in public high schools because they were about subversive things. And, you can’t get much more subversive than The Brothers. 4. The Savage Detectives by #RobertoBolano It’s possible I love Bolano’s short stories more than his novels, and I’ve never had the nerve to even try 2666. That said, The Savage Detective is my favorite Bolano so far and that’s a high bar to clear. His work is mercurial in a way that absolutely draws me in. I find Pynchon a pain because, just when I’m starting to dig the vibe, he goes off somewhere else and starts over. Bolano does some of that too, but it never loses me. Or, when it does, his use of language is mesmerizing enough to keep me hooked until I’m back on solid ground. I probably over-romanticize Bolano’s life because it’s a very romantic writer’s life, but there are worse things to romanticize, right? 5. White Teeth by #ZadieSmith Speaking of mercurial…I usually find abrupt POV changes more distracting than anything (Mona Lisa Overdrive, I’m looking at you). Smith somehow pulls it off in this shaggy dog of a story that keeps its thread in spite of bouncing from character to character and story to story. It’s absolutely something that could have come across as a gimmick, but she’s got the chops to make it work. It’s also a fantastic re-read, which is a huge plus for me. 6. The Long Goodbye by #RaymondChandler In the last 5 years, I’ve read a lot of Chandler and Hammett, as well as some of the more recent Nordic crime fiction writers, and I’ve come to a conclusion: I really don’t give a shit about crime fiction. However, I absolutely love crime fiction writing. That’s weird, right? Usually, the story doesn’t really grab me, but I’m so entranced by the style that I don’t care. Chandler remains my favorite, and The Long Goodbye is my favorite of his. I’m not entirely sure the story works, but I don’t care. It’s a reading experience I never want to end (which is good, because it’s his longest novel as well.) 7. Neuromancer by #WilliamGibson I read this around the time I was first getting into Nine Inch Nails. Wired magazine was just about to become A Thing. It’s literally impossible to get more zeitgeisty (Grammarly insists that “zeitgeisty” is acceptable, so who am I to argue?). What really grabbed me was the in media res-itude of the whole thing (Grammarly didn’t like that one). There were no explanations of anything that was meant to be common when the novel took place. You had to pick it up as you went and if you couldn’t get what an Ono-Sendai Cyberspace 7 deck was from the context, you were out of luck. There are others, of course. There are always others. Heck, this list might change tonight if I think of some others. Lord knows I’ve read Lord of the Rings and the Elric books multiple times. This’ll do for now. I’m out of port and I think it’s starting to rain, so I’ll leave it at this. Have a lovely evening, and feel free to share your choices. -RK

Addition by Subtraction

Posted on 24 November, 202224 November, 2022 by Ridley

It’s been a rough month, hasn’t it? Most of the people I’ve spoken to lately are feeling it. It gets dark too early, it’s too chilly, too damp, everything is too expensive, everyone is in a bad mood, everything hurts a little more than usual, and everything is a little harder to do. It’s not one thing, it just feels like everything is getting a little worse. Or maybe I’ve just been depressed. It happens. Work’s been tough of late. I’m struggling with the fact that what I do isn’t important in any real sense. I can push through it when it’s providing a lot of free and clear time off and enough resources to do interesting things with that time, but lately it’s been more draining than normal and inflation has eroded that cushion I’d grown to count on. Watching Twitter do whatever it’s doing isn’t helping. I spend an unhealthy amount of time there and it’s not getting any healthier. Over the last month, I have blocked more people than I have in the previous eight years on the site. I’m not a fan of the new owner, a guy who’s one of those wealthy mediocre types who thinks they can get away with anything because they’re rich. Everyone can see what’s going onThey laugh ’cause they know they’re untouchableNot because what I said was wrong Sinead knew of what she spoke Anyway, I’m just throwing words at the wall trying to describe a feeling and if I haven’t done so by now, I doubt continuing to try is going to help. I’ve been down. That’s all I’m saying. While I was sitting on the couch the other night, scrolling through one social media site or another, too tired and too nervous to do anything, the switch flipped. Or, a switch flipped. This is not what I want to do. I want to read, to write, to make music, to enjoy my time with my wife, and maybe even travel a little. What I don’t want to do is glue my eyes to some billionaire’s toy and have a heart attack from the impotent rage. Yes, I recognize that the problem is probably obvious from your point of view, as are some of the ways to address the problem. Understand that, from where I sit, it’s not obvious until suddenly it is. So, job 1 is: Get the damn bird app off my phone. Get all social media off of it (with the exception of Instagram, because I have to post cat pictures). If I’m going to use social media, make it (ugh, I hate this expression) intentional. Only use it when I’m sitting in front of a computer. People who do moderation better than I do might not need to play that game, but I know me better than that. Next on the agenda is make space for the things I want to do. You know the old bit about “No matter what you say your priorities are, the things you spend your time on are your true priorities.” I can’t really argue with that, and I don’t want “work” and “recover from work” to be my top two, so…yeah, get it together Mr. Kemp. I have notebooks full of clumps of story fragments. I have two albums worth of unfinished songs. My nightstand is buckling under the weight of all the books I’m meaning to read. Friends have written novels that I haven’t even read yet, and that ain’t right. My wife likes to remind me how much happier I am when I’m doing those things instead of getting angry at my phone and not only is she right, I’m also a lot happier when I listen to her. The switch that flipped wasn’t some insight that there were changes I needed to make to get out of this rut; it was a belief that I could do them. It didn’t hurt that I got some of the most inspiring comments on my side hustle that I’ve ever heard and that’ll pump a guy up pretty fast. For the first time in months, I’ve felt like things were on the upswing, I was pointed in the right direction, and a little momentum was building. Oh, and finally, thanks for bearing with me through this. It’s a very “LiveJournal” sort of personal/mental health/vaguebooking/type of post that probably ought to embarrass me. Then again, I wrote a Sovietwave song in 11/8 last night just to see if I could, so my shame threshold is pretty broken right now. To show you how much I appreciate you, here’s one of the finest pieces of music ever committed to bits. Air’s “La Femme d’Argent” extended to 26 glorious minutes. Enjoy!-RK https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbmbmcNw920

New Hospical for Lunatics from the British Museum collection

What The Heck Is Going On With Twitter?

Posted on 7 November, 20228 November, 2022 by Ridley

I’m old. My social media usage goes back to AOL (which was very much “social media”) in the mid-1990s. I’ve seen some spectacular failures. Did anyone else really, really try to commit to Google+? I did, and it was a disaster. It was just awful from start to finish. Nicole’s contact list is still messed up because of the poor implementation of “circles.” Against all odds, this is worse. Here’s where I’m coming from. I still have Facebook, although I don’t like it very much and use it to stay in touch with a small number of people and a music group and that’s about it. I have an Instagram for cat photos. I have a blog (duh), and I have a Tumblr as a backup for it. Mostly, though, I use Twitter. It works for me; it’s easy to curate, you get a good mix of people you care about, people with common interests, and some interesting celebrities. Therefore, I take no joy in seeing the meltdown that’s happening before our eyes on the bird site. The site always had a conservative bent when it came to moderation deciding which randos would pop up in my feed, but it wasn’t egregious and I could usually curate my way around it. Now? The owner is playing footsie with some of the worst of the worst, issuing nonsensical threats against imagined enemies and making up new policies on a daily basis, and the policies seem to have more to do with protecting his ego than anything. I cannot imagine what could possibly have produced this reaction. I can live with that up to a point. What concerns me is his deep, abiding desire to turn the site into something approaching YouTube Red but worse. The idea of paying to see “fewer” and “better” ads leaves me cold; if I were to pay, I wouldn’t want to see any ads and I can’t help but shudder at the thought of what he considers “better” ads. This is the sort of thing that tips the scale from “annoying but acceptable” to “unusable.” Of course, “acceptable” has its limits as well. If his own statements are any guide, he’s an incredibly naive individual when it comes to power and influence. That sort of thing attracts Real Bad People. It reminds me of the Anna Nicole Smith show, a “reality” show about a very damaged but also very wealthy individual who was surrounded by awful people who were trying their best to take advantage of her and didn’t give a shit that it was all being televised. My point being: If Twitter becomes another FreeRepublic wannabe or a dumber Truth Social? Yeah, obviously that is not acceptable and I’m out. Exhibit A for “this guy is out of his depth.” He doesn’t understand free speech, he doesn’t understand government, he doesn’t understand his own verification system, and, lord almighty, he has absolutely no clue whatsoever about the business he just bought for $44,000,000,000, or, essentially the GDP of Bolivia. As my bestie is wont to say, “This will end well.” Note: He never has to label it “sarcasm” because the context makes it obvious. Yes, this is a “subtweet.” Is there some master plan, some gazillion-dimensional chess going here? It doesn’t feel like, but I could be wrong. Honestly, I don’t care much one way or another. If I guy spends all his time saying things that make him seem like an ignorant ass, I’m perfectly happy to take what he’s saying at face value. To that end, I went ahead and set up a Mastodon account. And by “set up,” I mean “dusted off an account I made five years ago when there was some other Twitter-related crisis, or so I assume.” It’s @MrRidleyKemp@mastodon.social . To be clear: I’m not leaving Twitter (yet) and I’m not at all convinced that Mastodon will scratch that itch even if I do. Like many people I know, I both love and hate social media and I’m not certain it’s good for me. I miss the days of blogs, of RSS readers, and tighter communities. Just for grins, let’s rank the SM sites I’ve used: LiveJournal – Easily my favorite. It encouraged long-form writing, close communities, but still had the ability to expose you to new people and things. MySpace – I didn’t really use it to its full capabilities. Think “shinier, more customizable, and much more popular LiveJournal, albeit at the expense of the focus on long-form writing.” Twitter – You have to work to be clever and/or interesting with the character limit. Good balance of friends and celebrities. Instagram – With the caveat that 95% of the people who want to be my “friend” and sexbots (a phrase that sounds much cooler than it is), it’s pretty harmless and fun to scroll. AOL – It was fun to hang with the nerds and second wave of early adopters. My people. Friendster – It was OK. Facebook – You know how MSWord used to be a way to type things into a document and eventually because this bloated mess of functionality that no one wanted and made it slow, so people stopped using it? Every Google Attempt At A Social Network (Google+, Wave, Buzz, etc.) – They were extremely naive, didn’t understand the space, didn’t understand what made it work for people, and WERE SUPER-INSISTENT ON REAL-NAME VERIFICATION WHICH BREAKS THE WHOLE DAMN THING SO WHY BOTHER? Edit: How could I forget Ello? Ello was the most aesthetically pleasing SM I’ve ever experienced. I wish I’d spent more time there. Maybe someday I will. I understand it’s still around. It would probably land somewhere in the 3-5 range.Where were we? Oh, yeah, if Twitter implodes? I don’t know. I’m tired of Facebook. Instagram would be easy to live without. Is there anything on the horizon that’s actually worth making a move to? I haven’t seen it. This whole thing is just painful to watch and it’s weirdly tiring.

My Most-Memorable Concert-Closing Songs

Posted on 2 November, 2022 by Ridley

Let’s drop the temperature a little bit. I haven’t done a list in a while. Y’all like lists, right? I like lists. So, instead of life-changing illnesses (get yourself checked and get vaccinated) or lost friends, let’s just do a fun post instead. I was watching this video the other day because I like music and Michael Palmisano’s channel is one of the best. He hits the sweet spot between player, music teacher, and fan, and he’s a lot of fun. He did this video that names the “Top Five (5) Rock Concert Closing Song Of All Time.” I’m going to defer to his “All Time” designation on account of not having seen nearly enough shows to have an opinion on that scale. But, what about my favorites among the shows I’ve seen in person? That I can do. So, that’s what I did. This took longer to come up with than I expected it to, but in the end? It was pretty easy to identify the five most-memorable closers I’ve seen. Job 1 was: Figure out if I even remembered the final song at a particular show. That’s probably removed 90% of the concerts I’ve seen. I may have loved the show, but if I had to look up what the final song was? Nope. That’s enough of an intro. You get the idea. Here we go! Oh, and I’ll link live versions where possible.“Rim Shak” – Letters to Cleo This was at EdgeFest in Dallas back in 1995. Letters to Cleo were touring on Aurora Gory Alice and their biggest hit, “Here and Now.” It was a really miserable late April day, chilly and grey and damp. As often happens, the festival was off-schedule from the start which meant the mid-tier bands got squeezed. Such was the case for LtC. Kay Hanley, the singer, announced the band had been told they had five more minutes, so they launched into the hit single and, while the crowd were still cheering, went straight into “Rim Shak,” a ten-minute Led Zep-esque dirge. They went well over the five minutes they’d (supposedly) been given. A huge “rock and roll” moment with their most “rock and roll” song. “Yoga Means Union” – Ambulance, LTD This was at Red-Eyed Fly in Austin during SxSW. I was there to see Stellastarr* (who were really, really good!) and got there early enough to catch the band on the bill before them. I had no clue who they were as it wasn’t posted anywhere in the club, or at least, not accurately. So, there was this band playing just absolutely immaculate indie guitar pop. It’s not really my favourite genre, but this was best-of-breed stuff. Great vocals, great songwriting, great performance. Just loved it. They said their thank yous and goodbyes, and they went into their last song: A huge instrumental that builds from a simple riff, and it was a terrific way to end a fantastic set. The only bad part was trying to figure out who the #$^$%$^ they were. “Rappaport’s Testament” – Ted Leo + Pharmacists This was at Fun Fun Fun Fest at Waterloo Park in Austin in…I think it was 2009, but I could be wrong. Anyway, it was a typical Ted Leo set: Fiery, energetic, a little angry, a little silly, and really, really tight. I’m pretty sure this was the first time I saw him when his Echoplex didn’t break mid-show, but other than that? Very Ted. However, as the set was closing, he announced that one of his friends, an old-school punk from Austin, had recently passed. This last song, a Chumbawamba cover, was dedicated to his friend. Leo’s voice was breaking as he was talking to the crowd. Fittingly, the sky turned dark and ominous in the east directly behind the stage. Ted’s version of this song was absolutely thunderous, full of spite, fury, and defiance. It was absolutely chilling. “Frankenstein” – They Might Be Giants The first time I saw TMBG was on the Flood tour when it was just the two Johns and a tape machine (which was on stage with them). This time, at the Majestic in Dallas (with Frank Black opening!), they had a full band including a horn section. The show was spectacular, which seems obvious since they were actually able to play all the parts of the songs live (not to mention, they could loosen up and get a little more improvisational with them). Frank Black came out to play “Spy” during the encore. After that, they intoned that they were going to play the one song that “…no rock show would be complete without.” They then launched into an accordion-driven cover of Edgar Winter’s “Frankenstein” which, yeah. It was exactly what you’d expect from TMBG covering Edgar Winter. “Afterglow” – Genesis This one’s a bit of a cheat as it isn’t a single performance; they closed with “Afterglow” every time I saw them. That said, it was also great every time I saw them. It’s probably Tony Banks’ greatest composition, a romantic album-ender from Wind and Wuthering that starts quiet and builds to the kind of climax that stadiums were made for. Genesis always led into it with an instrumental medley that changed slightly from tour to tour. My favourite version is the one from Three Sides Live, but honestly? They’re all great. The light show was always built for “Afterglow” first and the rest of the set after that and it really showed. Enjoy. This is the next tour’s version, but it’s probably the best version on YouTube. That’s my take. How about y’all? Any particularly memorable closing songs? Let me know. Cheers, -RK

British museum scan with a winged sun and the inscription Lux Veritatas

Lament

Posted on 25 October, 2022 by Ridley

Yesterday was my friend Curtis’ birthday. I miss him. He was one of my closest friends and, for the record, he was much, much cooler than I ever was: He’s the cool one, I’m the one in all white except for the inexplicable black shoes. I was thinking about him the other day. The new Polyphia single dropped, the one featuring Steve Vai, and all I could think of was how Curtis would have loved this revival of highly-technical guitar music. He was years ahead of me in appreciating this stuff; hell, I’m pretty sure he introduced me to the musical magic of Vai back in the 80s. He was really into it, and I often didn’t appreciate what he was into until years later. He would have been a kid in a candy store today. As much as I dig this stuff, he would have really felt it on a level I just don’t have. I know “He would have really loved some of the niche music today” is a weird thing to think about an absent friend, but that’s how that kind of loss gets you. You see or feel something that the two of you had in common, something that you would have raced to share with them, and then there’s this hole where they used to be. So, if you are into this sort of things, here are some bands I think Curtis would have liked and that you might as well:Covet (Yvette Young) – She reminds me of Tony Levin on the Chapman Stick with her complete mastery of tapping and fluid sense of rhythm. Ichika Nito – Just otherworldly stuff. I don’t have any touchstones to compare him to, but he’s one of those players for whom the instrument literally feels like an extension of their body rather. Manuel Gardner Fernandes – I usually see him playing an acoustic, but when he brings his classical techniques to the electric, it’s special. Marcin – You thought I was going to leave out acoustic guitars? Heh. Marcin is an absolutely terrifying talent and a fabulous showman. Animals as Leaders (Tosin Abasi) – Yeah…I’m not even going to try to describe Tosin. He’s doing something that’s beyond my ability to describe. That’s probably why he had to start his own guitar company. Jason Richardson – Like Abasi, it’s a little heavier than I generally like, but the man is a player’s player. The range he shows in this song is pretty amazing. Finally, here’s the Polyphia track I was talking about because I really, really believe Curtis would have loved them, and not just because they hail from our hometown. Steve Vai has such old-school king energy in this. Here’s ya go Curtis. This is for you:

Almost Six

Posted on 21 October, 2022 by Ridley

For those of you who’ve been following for a while, you may be aware that Nicole and I are on the cusp of our 6th wedding anniversary. It falls on a Saturday, so we decided to take the week a little vacation the week leading up to it. I’m sure there are traditional gifts for the 6th anniversary, but we decided to just agree that our gifts would be “doing things and making memories together” instead. It’s worked out pretty well. The big adventure consisted of spending a couple of nights at our favorite hotel in San Antonio, doing some silly touristy things, and then going out to Lost Maples for an afternoon of blue sky, clean air and, as it turned out, moderate-to-difficult hiking. The Havana is our lodging of choice. It’s not the newest, the fanciest, or the most well-appointed, but it’s incredibly comfortable. It has big rooms, dark wood floors, super comfortable beds, and a vibe that brings it all together. We try to make sure we stay multiple nights so we can just unpack and chill and live there a little. It’s just north of the Riverwalk area, so it’s accessible, but it’s in a low-traffic area so you get a little privacy. It’s also photogenic as hell. Nicole had never been to one of those rotating tower restaurants, so we knocked that one off the bucket list. The restaurant at the Tower of the Americas is a fancy version of Landry’s, so it was fine, but the view made it worth it. The drinks were beyond silly; Nicole’s changed color as it was prepared at the table and my, um, faux-jito was as delicious as the name was cringe. But honestly, who cares about that stuff? Here’s what it looked like: A thunderstorm would have been nice, but seeing as we were going to be outdoors the next day? This was for the best. The whole Hemisfair area is ridiculously nice, so we took a photo by a water fountain on the way back to the car. I am completely baffled by what I was thinking with that shirt, that hair, those glasses, and…everything, but Nicole is on point. I actually took a photo of what my hair looked like the next day after sleeping with all the gunk in it. I will not be sharing that photo. We took it easy the next morning and then drove out to beautiful Vanderpool, Texas to visit Lost Maples State Natural Area. We were a little early for the maples, which was a blessing of sorts as we had the park largely to ourselves. A rare case where a rock stack improved the view. The reminds me of the limestone overhangs on the Brazos. Just thinking. Totally not posing. Some of the leaves were turning! No clue what this is but the bees loved it. Water so clear you can’t tell this flower is under water. I’m a sucker for lens flares and stuff. Almost the end of the trail. The view from the bottom of the trail. The view from the top of the trail. That’s the same lake as in the other photo. Don’t know what this formation is called. “Pretty?” We decided to hike the East Trail, which was listed at 4.7 miles (although door-to-door in the car, it was closer to six). This was the first cool afternoon of the fall, which meant it was absolutely ideal hiking weather. This is a pretty primitive park, so there were camp areas on the trail that consisted of nothing but slightly-cleared flat spots to pitch a tent. We were in a canyon between two…mesas? Long, flat-topped hills. Mesas. Anyway, the two converged and everything go quiet and we were treated to more and more springs coming in from the limestone cliffs. Then there was a sign. I’ll paraphrase: “The trail gets steep AF for the next mile and a half. You are warned.” We’d seen people turn back, but, you know, it was a nice day so we gave it a shot. My friends, that sign was painfully accurate. The trail, such as it was, was nothing more than river rock-sized limestones and rough terraces. The altitude gain was only 450 feet, but that’s 25 more than Enchanted Rock and it was much, much steeper. We were grown-ups about it and took breaks, but we were pretty determined to finish it and so we did. The photo with the lake way down in the distance is taken from the top of the mesa. There are actually two people in it on the path down on the right. Anyway, the view was appropriately breathtaking and we hiked from one end of the mesa to the other to get to the trail down…which was almost as tough as the ascent. It was a little less steep and a little more trail-like, but otherwise? It was tough. The reward was that we were right by the little lake which was absolutely gorgeous. 100% worth the hike. We figured we were done, but we still had about two miles of (blessedly flat) distance to cover. The whole thing took about four hours, which was about an hour longer than we actually enjoyed it. We may have stopped at a little convenience store on the way back and had some extremely naughty snacks. We’d earned them. We actually went back to Seguin to check on the cats because, you know, kittens. After providing them with some love, comfort, and fresh food, we headed back to the Havana for dinner. We’d stayed there many times before, but we’d never dined at their little on-site restaurant, Ocho. Since it was entirely outdoors (they have shutters they can close if the weather requires it), we figured this would be a good time to taste their wares. I can strongly recommend them; we had several small plates, all of which were good, and some of which were several notches above that. Aymeric and Ramza. Yes, in case you hadn’t already worked it out, we are nerds. And then we slept. Oh my stars did we sleep. Sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep. Such good sleep. The bed’s at the Havana are big and tall and firm and some of the bed linens are, get this…actually linen. Your mileage may vary,…

What’s In A Name?

Posted on 8 October, 2022 by Ridley

Or “How The #$%((@#$)@ Did I Come Up With That Name For The Kitten?” It occurs to me that the name “Aymeric Leonard Bitingway Vardy” is probably not in the top 10 names for cats these days (or, um, any days). As any cat owner will tell you, cats have extremely long names that are often shortened for convenience and used in full when Serious Matters Are Afoot. My boy Win, rest his soul, was more properly “Winjamin Failclaw” and he had more middle names and nicknames than I care to list. Cats accumulate names. Each of the kitten’s names have specific meanings. Since they may not be obvious to all readers, let me elaborate. This is totally not just an excuse to talk more about the kitten. Nope. I wouldn’t do that. Not me. Aymeric This name is taken from Ser Aymeric de Borel, a character from Final Fantasy XIV. He’s the unrecognized son of Thordan VII of the Holy See of Ishgard. He rose from humble beginnings to become the Lord Commander of the Templar Knights. Aymeric was cool and distant to the player when he was first introduced but became one of your fastest friends. He is, if I remember correctly, the only NPC who has a side quest where you just go back later and have dinner with him because he’s your friend. While the nature of his story and character are somewhat appropriate, the big thing is that his eyes remind us of the kitten’s. That’s the primary reason for the name, and its order in the list. There are limits to the similarities, of course. I have never seen de Borel attack a stuffed bee. Well, at least not the with same fervour as the kitten. Leonard This is a frankly unnecessary extension of “Leo” but if we’re going to use a scolding voice, “Leo” just isn’t long enough. A good scold name should allow you to really draw it out. “Leo,” in this case, is the name of a cat I’ve never met. Leo was a grey tabby who was up for adoption at Austin Pets Alive! a good ten years ago. He had the friendliest face of any kitten I’ve seen. Unfortunately, he was FIV+, and with the cats we already had, we couldn’t justify bringing him in to the fold. So, we paid for his adoption and his photo is still on our refrigerator. I know, right? You just want to pinch his cheeks. Bitingway He’s a kitten, so yeah, he bites. Why “Bitingway”? It’s another Final Fantasy thing. The Loporrits (space-rabbits who have turned the moon into a spaceship to help humanity escape the…you know, just go with it) all have very gerund-y name based on what they do: Cheatingway, Puddingway, Aimingway…you get the idea. It just felt very appropriate for the third name, especially since the third name is the least-formal (in my non-definitive taxonomy). Also, they’re painfully cute, aren’t they? Vardy Named for the one-and-only Jamie Vardy, the legendary striker of Leicester City Football Club. Fast, silly, relentless, and cheeky-as-all-get-out. It’s the name of a champion and thus suits little Aymeric perfectly. Probably the greatest footballer of all time. So, there you have it. Once again, I give you: Aymeric Leonard Bitingway Vardy!

Plague Diary

Posted on 6 October, 2022 by Ridley

I’m late to the party yet again; it took me several years to finally get COVID-19. Even with everything that’s been written on the subject, there were quite a few surprises that, upon asking around, I found were actually quite typical. I thought I’d go through what I experienced in case this is useful for anyone else. Before I started showing physical symptoms, I became unusually emotional. I know, I know, I’m a pretty emotional guy, but this was off the charts. This continued throughout the entire time I was testing positive. Heck, I might still be feeling it; it’s tough to self-calibrate how “emotional” someone is. Let me give you an example: Nicole sent this to me while I was quarantined in the back of the house, unable to see my wife or my new kitten*. Friends, I absolutely lost it. A song from a movie I’ve never seen just destroyed me. Sharing my experiences with some of my friends, I’ve learned that this is apparently a pretty normal reaction to COVID. Most of the people I’ve spoken with said they experienced heightened emotional reactions, but none of us knew that this was something we should expect. *Cats can get COVID. You do not want to give your cat COVID. The next weird thing was being tired all the time (OK, not that weird), but also being unable to sleep at all. There were a lot of factors that probably contributed to this: My perception of temperature went being “burning up” and “freezing” with nothing between, my eyes were very light-sensitive, and there were headaches that simply did not respond to any painkillers at all. The result was I spent hours just staring at the ceiling just wishing I could switch off and be one week into the future. All of this added up to some seriously weird and interesting dreams, some of which were pretty disturbing. All of this is a long way of saying that I don’t think the psychological impact of COVID gets talked about nearly enough. It was deeply weird for me, and I understand I’m not alone in this. If you get the plague, expect things to get strange. Now, my experience may be tempered somewhat by starting on Paxlovid 36 hours after the symptoms started. I have no clue if it helped or not; the disease ran a course of 4-5 days (time got kind of squishy). I don’t know if that’s normal, I don’t know if I had an unusually heavy case of it, I just don’t have the perspective. My only advice is: “Take your doctor’s advice” (and, for goodness’ sake, contact them immediately). The Paxlovid was its own thing, too. The disease didn’t seem to affect my taste buds, but man, the Paxlovid sure did. If you ever wanted everything to taste like chalk, that is the drug for you. My appetite was already completely shot, so this just felt like piling on. I was able to resume work after missing four days thanks to the wonders of working from home. I’m now testing 100% negative, and I feel…tired. I feel very tired. The good news is that I can sleep normally again and the internal thermostat works. The bad news is that sleeping is pretty much all I feel like doing. In fairness, that’s all I should be doing. The doctor made it very clear that I was in for a month of recuperation. No working out, no doing anything intense, just some light walking. The potential damage to my lungs takes time to heal, and even then, like most folks, the healing will stop short of 100%. After a month, I can ramp it up and push a little. But, when the body says “enough,” I have to listen. Oh, and I can see Nicole and the kitten again, so that’s good. Enjoying some really poor baseball last night with Ramza (foreground) and Aymeric. They seem to be getting along. One last thing: This is going to sound weird, but…this was the best vacation I’ve had in years and I say that without any exaggeration at all. I was mentally so completely checked out from work that, even just chilling with Nicole and the cats (once that became acceptable), especially last weekend, was heavenly. I haven’t felt that relaxed during my time off in ages. That’s something I probably need to examine with my therapist, no?So, that’s my story. Let me know if yours was wildly different. I feel like there’s an oral history of this disease starting to develop. Oh, and if you haven’t had it yet: You don’t want it. Keep up with your distancing/masking/vaccinating. Cheers,-RK