The Writer in Black

I recently finished my rewatch of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I find it holds up surprisingly well, although much of that probably how much of it resonates with the shit I have to deal with internally. I still consider Season 4 the weakest. (Riley was never a good match for Buffy although perhaps what she needed at that point in her life and Adam was just…lame as a big bad.) And, yeah, I hold to my opinion of season 6 as the best, with caveats. First, Willow’s “magic addiction” arc seemed to come out of nowhere in contradiction to how things worked previously. OTOH, “Dark Willow” was a pretty awesome “big bad” and the after-effects in season 7 made up for much. The real “downside” of the episode was “the Trio”, who were lamer than Adam from season 4. They really don’t rate being the 2nd tier “big bads” of the season. For the most part they just stumbled through it and after the really serious threat of Glory from Season 5 they were just…yeah, lame. OTOH (again), it’s ironic that after Buffy’s repeated line about guns “never help” that it was a bad guy with a gun who came the closest to taking her out permanently (“Prophecy Girl” and “The Gift” being only temporary deaths). That it triggered “Dark Willow” wasn’t any evil plot but pure accident so The Trio again remained lame.

I continue to want to smack Xander for most of the series. Self righteous hypocrite

And there’s an ongoing refrain of:
Giles: “You have to learn to hone your instincts. They will carry you through.”
Buffy: Uses her instincts.
Scoobies: “Not like that!”
Buffy: Proves to be right.
After a while, you’d think they’d learn.

There’s also:
Scoobies: “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Buffy: (Doesn’t say it, but should) “This. Right here. How you’re acting right now. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
All of these are annoying but, on reflection, are quite human.

One specific episode, I have drastically changed my opinion on: the Season Six episode “Once More with Feeling.” (Ths musical episode.)

Originally, I didn’t care much for it but now I think it’s easily within the top five of the entire show. It brings out so many things: Spike’s mixed feelings for Buffy (and his character arc, IMO, is the best in the show), the effect of trauma and depression that Buffy is going through due to what she’d just experienced, the many doubts Xandar was feeling about his own upcoming marriage (and he should have talked them through with Anya rather than sitting on them which could have prevented problems later). A very emotional episode with the music sliding it in like a knife between the ribs.

Not really a review but just my impressions of my latest re-watch.

Hopefully, I can get back to posting more regularly, In the meantime, I am raising money for some necessary surgery of my knee and hand hoping I can get back to being “Goth on Ice”. For now, please remember Sophie:

As someone who is goth I run into people who have all sorts of strange ideas about goths.  I’m a bigish guy so most of that doesn’t get directed at me.  Others, however, are accused of being “dangerous” and “juvenile delinquents” or otherwise criminal because of a lifestyle we have adopted as fitting our “inner selves.” The truth is we’re more often abused than abusers (in my case “bigish guy” shields me from much of that) and even when it doesn’t rise to the level of physical abuse we see the fear, the hatred, and the locked doors.  There’s this delightful “Hornbach” advertisement that illustrates it to a somewhat exaggerated effect but which makes the point (while showing the young lady has an absolutely great dad):

The case of Sophie Lancaster is not just a cute advertisement.  It is a real-life tragedy.  Today is the “anniversary” of the death of her death at the hands of a group of violent thugs.

Sophie was a “Goth” girl in Lancashire England.  While walking home on August 11, Sophie and her boyfriend Robert Maltby were attacked by a group of youths.  The only apparent motive for the attack was that Robert and Sophie were attired in Goth fashion.

They started by attacking Robert.  When he was knocked unconscious Sophie tried to protect him by cradling him in her arms.  The mob continued their assault, now focused on Sophie.  According to witnesses, members of the mob would run over and kick Sophie in the head and jump up and down on her head.  So severe were the couple’s injuries that emergency services arriving on the scene were unable to immediately determine which was male and which was female.

At least one of the attackers actually bragged about the attack as if he’d done something noble, saying to friends, “There’s two moshers nearly dead up Bacup park – you wanna see them – they’re a right mess”

Sophie and Robert were taken to the hospital, both in comas.  Robert gradually improved with some memory loss of the attack and events leading up to it.  This is not uncommon for traumatic injuries that involve unconsciousness.

Sophie, however, was not so fortunate.  It was eventually determined that so severe was her brain injury that she would never recover.  Her family agreed to cease life support on August 24, 2007 and the life of Sophie Lancaster passed from this world to whatever, if anything, may wait beyond.

Five youths involved in the attack were eventually arrested.  It is not known how many others might have been involved.  The five were first charged with “grievous bodily harm” but following Sophie’s death the charges were upgraded.  Of the five, two were convicted of murder and the other three had the murder charge withdrawn on a guilty plea of “grievous bodily harm”.  The five received sentences (after appeals) ranging from four years and four months to life imprisonment with a minimum (I presume, not being familiar with the British legal system, this means before eligible for parole) of fifteen years and six months.

Sophie, of course, is dead forever.  There is no appeal on her result.

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And it just gets better and better. Saw the doctor today about the hand. First there’s the pain in the heel of my hand (originally presumed to be from the broken wrist) which hasn’t been getting better. The other is a ridge along the underside of one finger with a lump in the palm near the joint. That appears to be a growth on the tendon pulling it short. Not calcification because that would have showed up in the X-rays. Both of these exceed what my PCP can do and, in particular, the tendon will require surgery to “clean off” whatever is growing on the tendon (hoping it’s just a cyst). He’s referred me to a hand specialist both for the tendon growth and the pain in the palm.

Well, at least my unsurance’s (I declare that a word) deductible, high as it is, equals the Out of Pocket, so if we can make goal in my fundraiser, it should cover all three.

Link below to donate.

https://gofund.me/8f574dbc

It’s going to be a while before I can skate. I’ll explain in more detail below, but the upshot is that it looks like I need knee surgery and am having to run a fundraiser to cover the cost (because my unsurance–shut up autocorrect, that is totally a word–sucks and doesn’t cover anything until the rather high deductible is met).

https://gofund.me/8f574dbc

Click link or image to donate.

So, I’ve had knee issues for years. Back in the Air force, I had several knee injuries ranging from motor vehicle accidents to falling off a stepladder while changing lights in a stairwell on post. And, over time, my knees have gradually deteriorated. I can (well, could, but we’ll get to that in a moment) walk maybe 10-15 minutes before the knee pain started getting serious. I’d usually quip that it “got better” after about half an hour when the knees go numb. And, running more than a few seconds was completely out of the question.

This made getting decent exercise difficult.

Strangely enough, skating didn’t cause me those problems. I could stake an hour or two with no problem (at least from my knees), even throw in a few jumps once my skating skill got to the point of doing those.

All that came screeching to a halt about a month ago. I was in class, working on spirals and I started to take a fall. I could sense that it was going to be a bad one and I instinctively tried to catch myself. Result was I caught my left toe pick in the ice and fell backward. My left leg folded and I felt something give in the knee.

I thought, maybe, it wasn’t too bad since I was able to skate off the ice. I’d had some ligament injuries that only needed a few weeks’ rest to heal. Unfortunately, two weeks getting later and it was getting worse. I went to see the doctor and he said it looks like a medial meniscus tear.

That’s, to the best I’ve been able to determine, not something that will get better on its own. The alternatives are steroid shots (which appear to just provide temporary relief) or surgery.

If I’m going to get back on the ice, back to the one form of decent exercise I’ve been able to stick to, I’m going to need surgery. And so we’re back to that unsurance.

The doctor did an X-ray which was inconclusive. That was expected, but a necessary stepping stone toward getting the insurance to approve an MRI (and getting the insurance to approve it is necessary to get it to count toward the deductible).

Between the testing to come, the surgery, and the physical therapy/rehab after the surgery, I’m expecting to meet the deductible. Deductible is $8100 so that’s what I’m trying to raise.

Any help would be appreciated, whether through donations (click links above) or just spreading the word.

As someone who is goth I run into people who have all sorts of strange ideas about goths.  I’m a bigish guy so most of that doesn’t get directed at me.  Others, however, are accused of being “dangerous” and “juvenile delinquents” or otherwise criminal because of a lifestyle we have adopted as fitting our “inner selves.” The truth is we’re more often abused than abusers (in my case “bigish guy” shields me from much of that) and even when it doesn’t rise to the level of physical abuse we see the fear, the hatred, and the locked doors.  There’s this delightful “Hornbach” advertisement that illustrates it to a somewhat exaggerated effect but which makes the point (while showing the young lady has an absolutely great dad):

The case of Sophie Lancaster is not just a cute advertisement.  It is a real-life tragedy.  Today is the “anniversary” of the death of her death at the hands of a group of violent thugs.

Sophie was a “Goth” girl in Lancashire England.  While walking home on August 11, Sophie and her boyfriend Robert Maltby were attacked by a group of youths.  The only apparent motive for the attack was that Robert and Sophie were attired in Goth fashion.

They started by attacking Robert.  When he was knocked unconscious Sophie tried to protect him by cradling him in her arms.  The mob continued their assault, now focused on Sophie.  According to witnesses, members of the mob would run over and kick Sophie in the head and jump up and down on her head.  So severe were the couple’s injuries that emergency services arriving on the scene were unable to immediately determine which was male and which was female.

At least one of the attackers actually bragged about the attack as if he’d done something noble, saying to friends, “There’s two moshers nearly dead up Bacup park – you wanna see them – they’re a right mess”

Sophie and Robert were taken to the hospital, both in comas.  Robert gradually improved with some memory loss of the attack and events leading up to it.  This is not uncommon for traumatic injuries that involve unconsciousness.

Sophie, however, was not so fortunate.  It was eventually determined that so severe was her brain injury that she would never recover.  Her family agreed to cease life support on August 24, 2007 and the life of Sophie Lancaster passed from this world to whatever, if anything, may wait beyond.

Five youths involved in the attack were eventually arrested.  It is not known how many others might have been involved.  The five were first charged with “grievous bodily harm” but following Sophie’s death the charges were upgraded.  Of the five, two were convicted of murder and the other three had the murder charge withdrawn on a guilty plea of “grievous bodily harm”.  The five received sentences (after appeals) ranging from four years and four months to life imprisonment with a minimum (I presume, not being familiar with the British legal system, this means before eligible for parole) of fifteen years and six months.

Sophie, of course, is dead forever.  There is no appeal on her result.

In other places I’ve made it pretty clear that I lean sharply libertarian and that the role of government should be sharply limited. “To preserve these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”  That’s it.  Going beyond what’s necessary to “secure these rights” is to go beyond “just powers.”

As I point out in earlier blog posts, a certain level of government actually helps to secure the basic rights of Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of Happiness (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Obviously, we are far, far beyond that point.  To get there we need to cut government back, way back.

Here’s where I part company with many Libertarians.  They want to do it in one fell swoop.  Every part of government that is not part of the minimum necessary “to secure these rights” (which some consider to be “all of it”) must go.  Now.

That, however, may not be a good idea.  Oh, the end goal of getting rid of most of what government does may be a laudable one but the question is how.

Consider this analogy.  A man has been shot with a number of arrows and is lying there like a meat pincushion.  The wounds, if properly treated, are such that he can survive and heal.  If left as his he’ll bleed to death.

Some folk have the instinct to jerk out all the arrows since they’re what caused his wounding.

Very foolish that.  Those arrows are also plugging the holes so he doesn’t quickly bleed out.

This is where we are with government.  It’s bleeding free society to death, slow or fast depending on your perspective but it’s also “plugging the holes”.

Consider what President Dwight Eisenhower said about Social Security and other programs: “Should any political party attempt to abolish social security unemployment insurance and eliminate labor laws and farm programs you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group of course that believes you can do these things. Among them are a few other Texas oil millionaires and an occasional politician or business man from other areas. Their number is negligible and they are stupid.”

Eisenhower was not endorsing Social Security and those other programs.  No, he was pointing out the reality that so many people had grown dependent on them that people would rise in such outrage that the “offending” party would be voted out of every office they hold, from President all the way down to dog catcher, and never be heard from again. [Ed. Note also what I had to say in Yesterday’s post, The Dismal Science.]

And the plain fact is that many more people are dependent on many more government programs than ever before.  Cut the program and people will suffer, in the short term at least.  Maybe, probably, they would if given time adjust to the new situation and the economic growth that comes from the increased freedom and less tying up of the economy caused by the government passing money back and forth from hand to hand with no new products and services to show for it would improve their lot.  But there’s the problem “given time”.  Most people will only see their immediate hardship.  As the line says from the movie Annie (the 1982 version; I haven’t seen the 2014 version and don’t intend to) “People don’t eat in the long run.”

There’s another factor as well. Even if you remove the arrows and stop the bleeding, infection brought in by the arrows through the open wounds they created can still kill the body.

What is the infection in this metaphor? Infection is the beliefs and ideas that are only government can solve problems or, perhaps more pernicious, government can solve them best. And so, even if you reduce the size and scope of government (or, miracle of miracles, get rid of it entirely) the moment problems arise (and they will, this being far from a perfect world) people will immediately turn to government to “solve” those problems. And how do you stop them, short of force, which would make you a government?

It’s a strange infection that causes people to stab themselves with the very arrows you just pulled out of them, but, well, it’s not a perfect metaphor.

The other problem is that the arrows are barbed. The organs of government, in the end, are made up of people and they are going to “softly and silently vanish away” because you are no boojum. They’re going to resist. Remember the Iron Law of Bureaucracy? The people in charge of most of the bureaucracies are “type 2” bureaucrats, those dedicated not to the goals for which the bureaucracy was formed, but to the organization itself. They aren’t going to quietly see it go down, and they’re perfectly willing to do untold damage in their fight for institutional survival.

We saw exactly that under Trump. The irony was that people claimed Trump was paranoid for claiming that the “Deep State” was working against him to undermine his Presidency (starting with putting surveillance on his campaign). And time and again during various hearings we saw witnesses describing how they had worked against Trump to undermine his Presidency, starting with surveillance on his campaign.

Thus, while reducing the size of government is a good thing–indeed, it’s something that must happen if we’re to remain anything resembling a free and prosperous country–great care must be taken in how its done.  It needs to be done gradually–we didn’t get where we are in an instant and we won’t get back in one either.  We must be prepared to deal with the “bleeding” that will come from removing each “arrow”, with the infection that it’s let into the system, and with the hidden barbs it contains, lest instead of a healthy, prosperous nation we end up with an exsanguinated corpse.

Recognizing this, of course, makes me a horrible “statist” who doesn’t care about freedom.  Or so I’ve been told.

So there was this guy:

Could he possibly be any more ivory tower?

What he’s saying is that he defines an intellectual as someone who is so immersed in his inbred little group that he’s totally and completely out of touch with larger American culture.

You know, it’s entirely possible to recognize the William Tell Overture as part of a larger musical work of some significance about a legendary figure and recognize how it has entered the public consciousness through the tales of another fictional (as Tell appears to have been) popular hero. Likewise, it’s also possible to grasp the works of Wagner and recognize that a lot of people’s exposure to the music was through “Kill the wabbit!” And, of course, there was Beethoven’s symphonies and the Disco beat version “A Fifth of Beethoven.”

But no, you define “intellectuals” as a tiny little circle jerk that allows nothing of the larger world to enter the confines of their naval gazing.

And I agree with you. But that’s not a good thing.

Lord Tenet laughed as his fool gamboled between the tables, his own voice nearly lost among the raucous laughter filling the hall. Servants swirled about the tables, bearing pitchers of wine to the guests at Tenet’s feast. Other servants carried away the plates and trenchers of the first course of food, beef in gravy seasoned with enough cinnamon and cloves to leave the spicebox bare. Tenet’s extravagance meant that meals in the coming winter months would be bland, with little more than onions and leeks to season them, but it would be worth it to…

Tenet let his eyes slide to the side to where Baron Zelquon, his rival at court, gulped at his own wine cup. Yes, to impress, no, to intimidate, Zelquon, was worth near impoverishing the keep.

“You set a hardy table,” Zelquon raised his cup in salute.

Zelquon’s words were polite, but his voice tone was grudging.

Tenet returned Zelquon’s salute with one of his own. “I have but begun.”

Tenet stood and raised his cup. Silence fell over the hall.

“Bring in…the beast.”

The doors to the kitchens opened and six servants entered, carrying between them an enormous platter on which lay the roast carcass of a mighty aurochs.

“My huntsman has done well,” Tenet said. “Rise, Edoran, and accept the thanks of these who feast.”

From one of the lower tables a slim man stood. He bowed. “My Lord is kind, but it is My Lord who slew the beast with his own spear.”

Tenet laughed. “Ah, but it is my loyal huntsman who led me to the point where I could use my spear. How shall I reward–“

Before Tenet could complete his question, the main doors to the hall burst inward limned in blue flame. A man in dark robes strode through the remains of the shattered doors.

Several things happened at once. The hush in the hall, if anything, deepened, followed a moment later by a repeated murmur, the single name, “Delros.” Guards appeared from behind tapestries, their swords drawn and ready. At Tenet’s side, Zelquon sprang to his feet, his hand grasping for a sword that was not there. Against this foe, they were not rivals, but allies.

An icy hand of fear clutched at Tenet’s heart but long practice schooled his face into resolve.

“You dare?”

The robed man, Delros, lifted his hands and pushed the hood back from his face. “I come in peace.”

“Peace? With the prophesied conqueror?”

Delros sighed. “I cannot speak to any prophesies. But, the truth is, I mean you no harm.”

Tenet opened his mouth to speak but Delros raised a hand, blue flames licked about his fingers.

“I had not finished.” Delros took several steps forward, to the center of the hall. “All I ever wanted to do was pursue my studies in my keep. No more. And yet, people keep coming attempting to kill me.

Delros’ eyes narrowed. “Well, I am alive and the assassins are dead. But that they keep coming is…annoying. I want them to stop. Just…leave me alone and I will be able to stop killing the people you send to kill me.”

“You expect us to believe…”

“Believe what you want. I don’t want to kill your people. It takes time from my studies. Leave. Me. Alone.”

With that Delros turned and strode from the hall. Once he’d passed through the doorway, he gestured and the pieces of the door gathered themselves up from the floor and reassembled themselves.

Tenet looked at Zelquon and shrugged.

“We must stop him,” Zelquon said.

Tenet shrugged again. “How? You saw his power.”

#

Outside, Delros sighed and pulled his hood back up.

“Did they believe you?” A young woman, dressed in a buff leather tunic and pants, her hair pulled into a knot at the nape of her neck lounged against the wall opposite the great hall’s door.

“Probably not,” Delros said. He turned and strode toward the exit of the keep weaving among the magically slumbering guards.

“Why didn’t you tell them about the prophesy?” The young woman fell in at his side.

“They don’t believe I mean them no harm. Do you think they’ll believe that their fool astrologer got the prophesy wrong?”

When Delros had first heard of the so-called prophesy, he had investigated. The astrologer had miscalculated the position of the lesser moon. While the prophesy was true, he’d missed the time by five hundred years.

The young woman shrugged as they emerged from the keep into the bright sunshine. “You’d think they’d be glad that they had five hundred more years to prepare for this conqueror.”

Delros laughed. “Oh, you misunderstood. It isn’t five hundred years from now It was five hundred years ago.”

Delros waved his hand and his sky-barge descended from where it had lain hidden in a cloud.

“A…go?”

“One of the many wars. A wizard king gathered several kingdoms together. They went conquering, built an empire. And in time the empire broke up.”

The gangway on the sky barge unfolded and Delros gestured the young woman to precede him.

“Just on of their interminable wars, like any other. They didn’t even notice. That’s all the prophecy was, just one of their endless wars.”

For those unfamiliar, here’s a brief history of Goths, the Gothic subculture and why “Goth”  even though they, we, were nowhere about when Rome was being sacked. (I’ve got an alibi!)

And some pictures of Goths, being Goth (what can I say, I like couples):

If this interests you, Toxic Tears has some tips on getting started:

If there were any justice today would be a national holiday at least as big as Independence Day.  I’m not kidding.

Back in the 1770’s an unrest that had started more than a century before–with Colonial reaction to the English Civil War, the Catholic reign of James II, and the Glorious Revolution that followed–was growing in the American colonies, at least those along the Atlantic Seaboard from New Hampshire down through Georgia.  Protests over taxes imposed without the taxed having any voice in the matter, complaints about a distant monarch and legislative body making rules and laws over people to whom they are not beholden.

There had been clashes which fed that unrest, including the famous “Boston Massacre” where British troops fired into a rioting mob resulting in several deaths.  Think of it as the Kent State of the 18th century.

In an effort to quell the unrest, or at least have it be less of a threat to British officials, General Thomas Gage, Military governor of Massachusetts, under orders to take decisive action against the colonists, decided to confiscate firearms and ammunition from certain groups in the colony.  His forces marched on the night of April 18, 1775.

The colonists, forewarned of the action (the Longfellow poem, which children learn in school–or they did when I was in school “Listen my children and you shall hear, of the midnight ride of Paul Revere”–is historically inaccurate, but it sure is stirring, isn’t it?), first met the British troops at Lexington Massachusetts where John Parker, in command of the local Colonial Militia said, according to the recollection of one of the participants, “Stand your ground.  Don’t fire unless fired upon.  But if they mean to have a war, let it begin here.”

Whether Parker actually said those words, the first shot was fired.  No one knew who fired it, whether British or Colonial.  In the ensuing, brief battle the British regulars put the Colonial militia to flight.

The British then turned toward Concord.

A small unit of militia, hearing reports of firing at Lexington marched out but on spotting a British unit of about 700 while themselves only numbering about 250 they returned to Concord.  The Colonial militia departed the town across the North Bridge to a hill about a mile north of town where additional militia reinforcements continued to gather.

The British reached the town and began searching for the weapons they came to confiscate.  They found several cannon, too large to be moved quickly, and disabled them.  Other weapons and supplies had been either removed or hidden.

On seeing the smoke of the burning carriages from the cannon, the Militia began to move.  It is not my purpose here to go into detailed description of their movements but in the end the British regulars found themselves both outnumbered and outmaneuvered.  They fled, a rout that surprised the Colonial Militia as much as the British regulars.  Again, I simplify but in the end they marched back to Boston continuing to suffer casualties from what amounted to 18th century sniper fire from the surrounding brush.  The frustration of the British soldiers led them to atrocities, killing everyone they found in buildings whether they were involved in the fighting or not.

Eventually the British forces fought their way back to Boston where they were besieged by Militia forces numbering over 1500 men.

And the Revolutionary War had begun.

And so, on this day in 1775, the nascent United States took the course that would lead eventually to Independence.

And that’s why April 19 deserves to be a National Holiday on a par at least with Independence Day.  The latter was recognition of what became fact on the former.