Daily Star: Black magic diplomat 'POOS on woman’s doorstep to make her fall in love with him'
Hat tipt to Jeff Meyerson.
Saturday, December 05, 2015
Free for Kindle for a Limited Time
Constellations - Kindle edition by Tim Bryant. Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com. When Artillery Conray Patton washes up on the bank of the Angelina River in 1958, it's both the end of a journey and the beginning of a story. It's one that stretches from the Civil War to the civil rights era, from the now-gone riverboat town of Pattonia, Texas to Senegal on the west coast of Africa. It takes a pretty big man to encompass that kind of span. Art Patton pulls it off and then some. There are skeletons and voices in Patton's past to be sure. But the real mystery is Art himself. Solve him, and the rest of the story follows.
Reading it will make you feel like a Peaking Tom
The Daily Beast: Her new memoir, Drawing Blood, is a remarkable read, dripping in old-fashioned sex, drugs, and rock and roll. No, not the mud-caked Woodstock version. Go back further, to the cabaret of Moulin Rogue. For the uninitiated, the book is a peak behind the dressing room curtain.
William McIlvanney, R. I. P.
Mystery Fanfare: Celebrated Scottish writer William McIlvanney has died aged 79 after a short illness.
First It was the Thin Mints Melee
Daily Mail Online: Man gets into a fist fight with a MONKEY – after the cheeky animal urinates on his motorbike
Melvin Williams, R. I. P.
he New York Times: Melvin Williams, whose exploits as a drug kingpin in Baltimore informed the plot and character details of the HBO series “The Wire,” and who, after emerging from prison, played a role on the show, died on Thursday in Baltimore. He was 73.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
Friday, December 04, 2015
Robert Loggia, R. I. P.
NY Daily News: Robert Loggia, an Oscar-nominated actor, died Friday in Los Angeles, his family confirmed. He was 85.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
They Really Miss the Old Days
Dissecting the Dream of the 1890s: Chrisman extols the virtues of switching over to clothing and technology from the 1880s and 1890s, as she and her husband, Gabriel, have. Sarah originally wrote the book, her third, in script with a fountain pen.
Come on, admit it -- you'll buy a copy
Jaden Smith "Sees Himself as a Modern-Day Prophet": “Jaden sees himself as a modern-day prophet and is working on a collection of essays,” a pal says in the new issue of Us Weekly. “They’re new takes on string theory and chaos theory, but more mystical.”
Scott Weiland, R. I. P.
Hollywood Reporter: "Scott Weiland, best known as the lead singer for Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver, passed away in his sleep while on a tour stop in Bloomington, Minnesota, with his band The Wildabouts," a post on Weiland's Facebook page reads. "At this time we ask that the privacy of Scott’s family be respected."
FFB: The Sixpenny Dame -- Eaton K. Goldthwaite
Never having read anything by Eaton K. Glodthwaite before, I did a little googling. I found this brief personal reminiscence about his military career, written by a friend of his, quite interesting. After reading it, I still had no idea what to expect when I started reading The Sixpenny Dame, but after a few pages I thought I had it pegged. Guy sees really good-looking woman and falls hard for her. Guy learns that she's married. They eventually meet. She lives in a mansion. Guy works in an insurance office. Guy learns that she's trapped in a very unhappy marriage. She tells him how wonderful he is. Sex ensues.
[SPOILER ALERT] Nearly everything from here on in as a spoiler, so consider yourself alerted.] This book didn't go in the direction I'd anticipated. Our narrator, Don Martin (Not Mad's maddest artist) is a nice guy, a vet who has a master's in psychology, honest, and not at all interested in killing anyone's husband. The wife, Mildred, doesn't want to kill her husband, either.
That's not to say there's not a lot going on. Mysteries abound, and Mildred isn't entirely forthcoming about her past, much less her present. She tells Don that she loves him, and he never really doubts it, though he does doubt that she's telling him the whole truth about her life.
Just getting to see Mildred is a problem because of her husband's formidable bodyguard, not to mention the even more formidable dobermans that guard the estate. As it happens, Martin's father helped to build the mansion, and Martin locates a secret tunnel into the house. The tunnel is where he stumbles across the skeleton of a murder victim. But who's the victim? And why won't Mildred's husband ever come out of his room? [END OF SPOILER ALERT]
Things get pretty complicated in the end, and Martin spouts off a little too much '50s psychology in the course of things, but I found this book quite entertaining. Goldthwaite has a smooth, readable style, and he knows how to create suspense and interesting characters. I have another couple of his books around, and one of these days I'm going to read one.
[SPOILER ALERT] Nearly everything from here on in as a spoiler, so consider yourself alerted.] This book didn't go in the direction I'd anticipated. Our narrator, Don Martin (Not Mad's maddest artist) is a nice guy, a vet who has a master's in psychology, honest, and not at all interested in killing anyone's husband. The wife, Mildred, doesn't want to kill her husband, either.
That's not to say there's not a lot going on. Mysteries abound, and Mildred isn't entirely forthcoming about her past, much less her present. She tells Don that she loves him, and he never really doubts it, though he does doubt that she's telling him the whole truth about her life.
Just getting to see Mildred is a problem because of her husband's formidable bodyguard, not to mention the even more formidable dobermans that guard the estate. As it happens, Martin's father helped to build the mansion, and Martin locates a secret tunnel into the house. The tunnel is where he stumbles across the skeleton of a murder victim. But who's the victim? And why won't Mildred's husband ever come out of his room? [END OF SPOILER ALERT]
Things get pretty complicated in the end, and Martin spouts off a little too much '50s psychology in the course of things, but I found this book quite entertaining. Goldthwaite has a smooth, readable style, and he knows how to create suspense and interesting characters. I have another couple of his books around, and one of these days I'm going to read one.
Thursday, December 03, 2015
Quentin Tarantino Wants To Bring A Famous Elmore Leonard Book To TV
Quentin Tarantino Wants To Bring A Famous Elmore Leonard Book To TV: When Justified ended on FX this past spring, there was a hole left in my TV watching schedule where some crisp, Elmore Leonard-oriented dialogue should have been. That rich tapestry of Kentucky characters may be gone, but a recent report indicates that the unlikely Quentin Tarantino may bring another Leonard project to the small screen. The prestigious director wants to turn Forty Lashes Less One into a miniseries for the small screen.
First It Was the Thin Mints Melee
Police say woman threatened neighbor with garden tool: She's also accused of baring her backside, cursing at mother and daughter
Wednesday, December 02, 2015
Paris Hilton Update
AOL: Magazines often promise a celebrity "like you've never seen them before" — which often consists of a radical makeunder, complete with no-makeup makeup. But Paper's brand-new winter 2015 issue is a 180 from that approach: The magazine outfitted cover girl Paris Hilton in avant-garde pieces by young designers, including Hood by Air's scandalous backless jumpsuit and Dora Abodi's sculptural jacket.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
Some images NSFW.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
Some images NSFW.
Ronnie Bright, R. I. P.
VVN Music: Ronnie Bright, who sang bass with such groups as the Valentines, the Cadillacs, the Coasters and on Johnny Cymbal's hit Mr. Bass Man, has died at the age of 77.
They Must Not Have Seen Mad Max: Fury Road
2015 New York Film Critics Circle Winners: 'Carol' Named Best Picture
“The Good, the Bad, and the Criminally Stupid” (by Rob Brunet)
“The Good, the Bad, and the Criminally Stupid” (by Rob Brunet) | SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN: Rob Brunet turned to writing crime fiction after running a “digital-media boutique” for twenty years. His short fiction and reviews have appeared in a number of publications, including the Toronto Standard, Shotgun Honey, and the latest Bouchercon anthology, Murder Under the Oaks. His first EQMM story, “The Hunt,” appeared in the February 2015 issue and readers will very shortly see another tale from him in our pages. 2016’s February issue, on sale next month, contains “Skinny’s Beach.” Like Rob’s previous story for us, it’s evocatively set in the Kawarthas, in rural Ontario. What impresses me most about Rob’s work is his keen sense of place; his settings play almost as important a role in his fiction as his characters do.—Janet Hutchings
How to Trap Gators and Influence People
How to Trap Gators and Influence People: Kroboth took some time to give us the inside scoop on what it’s like to swim with modern-day dinosaurs and be labeled “the world’s most beautiful alligator hunter.” Kroboth speaks in a light, songful voice that bubbles over with laughter, and when she talks about gators, you can just feel the huge smile across her face.
Tuesday, December 01, 2015
National Board of Review Winners 2015
National Board of Review Winners 2015: The National Board of Review has named “Mad Max: Fury Road” as the best film of 2015.
First It was the Thin Mints Melee
And, as usual, Texas leads the way: San Antonio man shoots neighbor in the head for parking in front of his house
Overlooked Movies: Idiocracy
If you've watched the trailer embedded below, you can tell that Idiocracy owes a little to Sleeper, but it owes even more to C. M. Kornbluth's famous short story "The Marching Morons." I remember that at an Aggiecon twenty-five or so years ago, Howard Waldrop asked at some panel or other if anyone had read the story. He then added that we were living it. If he thought that then, I wonder what he thinks now.
The trailer tells you all you need to know about the plot. Luke Wilson takes part in a sleep experiment that goes wrong. He's not to bright in his own world, but in the future, he's the smartest man on the planet. So naturally he has to save the world. It's not as easy as you might think, since he's given only a week in which to do it.
What the trailer doesn't tell you is that Maya Rudolph is also part of the sleep experiment, and she wakes up when Wilson does. She was a hooker in her own time, and she takes up her profession again after a short while. Naturally, however, she and Wilson have to get together because they are, after all, the two smartest people in the world.
This movie is not for everyone. The comedy is broad. Exaggeration is the word of the day. The acting isn't necessarily bad, but it's no better than it has to be for this kind of movie. The humor doesn't always work. Considering all that, however, I had a fine time watching it. It's been running on cable recently, and if you haven't seen it, you might give it a try. You can always switch to Downton Abbey or whatever the current equivalent is if you hate it.
The trailer tells you all you need to know about the plot. Luke Wilson takes part in a sleep experiment that goes wrong. He's not to bright in his own world, but in the future, he's the smartest man on the planet. So naturally he has to save the world. It's not as easy as you might think, since he's given only a week in which to do it.
What the trailer doesn't tell you is that Maya Rudolph is also part of the sleep experiment, and she wakes up when Wilson does. She was a hooker in her own time, and she takes up her profession again after a short while. Naturally, however, she and Wilson have to get together because they are, after all, the two smartest people in the world.
This movie is not for everyone. The comedy is broad. Exaggeration is the word of the day. The acting isn't necessarily bad, but it's no better than it has to be for this kind of movie. The humor doesn't always work. Considering all that, however, I had a fine time watching it. It's been running on cable recently, and if you haven't seen it, you might give it a try. You can always switch to Downton Abbey or whatever the current equivalent is if you hate it.
Monday, November 30, 2015
The "A" Parking Sticker
When Judy and I lived in Denton, parking on the North Texas campus wasn't a problem because I never had to park there. We lived two blocks from the Auditorium Building, which is where the English Department was located. It was an easy walk, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Things were different when we moved to Austin. We were located within walking distance of the UT campus, but only if you were an Olympic speed walker. In bad weather, it would have been difficult if not impossible to make the walk.
So we needed a campus parking sticker. Students got a "C" sticker, which cost $3 when I was a first a student. I don't have any idea how much it was then or how much it is now, but I didn't want a student permit. The parking lots for students weren't as far away from campus as our apartment, but they were fairly distant. Judy didn't like walking that far. Since she was working on campus, only a block or so from where I'd have an office, and I was working, too, we qualified for a better class of sticker.
The stickers for faculty and staff were "A" and "B" stickers. Which one you got was determined by your salary, and you can guess which one we qualified for. They wouldn't let us combine our salaries, so we had to settle for a "B" sticker. The "B" parking wasn't much more convenient than the "C" sticker would have been, but it appeared that there was nothing else we could do.
However, as you've guessed, I wouldn't be writing this if a solution hadn't presented itself. The statute of limitations has long since expired on our crime, so now the story can be told. We knew someone who shall, even after this long interval, remain nameless. She worked in the office where the stickers were issued. Not only that, but she qualified for an "A" sticker. Because of her position, she could get two "A" stickers, one for each of her cars. Except that she had only one car.
I don't know whose idea it was, but someone suggested that she could get a second sticker and give it to us. No one would ever know unless we violated some rule, which we assured her we would never do. So soon enough we were in possession of the coveted "A" parking sticker. Not only could we park in the "A" lots, but we could park on the Inner Campus drive, right by Parlin Hall, the home of the English Department, if we got to campus early enough.
I'm not sure that parking is still allowed on Inner Campus Drive, but in those days all the entrances to the campus were guarded by guys in little gatehouses. If you didn't have an "A" sticker, you were stopped, questioned, and sent to Gitmo if you didn't have a good reason to be entering the campus. Okay, I made up the Gitmo part, but the rest is true.
I'll never forget the first day of driving to work with the "A" sticker firmly secured to the front windshield of our '67 Plymouth Fury III (that's it in the photo up above). There was a little bit of trepidation as we approached the gatehouse, especially on Judy's part. She didn't have a criminal nature, as she proved many years later when we were on a train that was going to cross the border between Austria and Germany. But that's another story for another time. Maybe. This time, she was nervous. How nervous was she? She looked and acted like someone who'd just robbed a bank, shooting and killing two of the guards. I hoped the guy in the gatehouse couldn't see into the car too well.
Unlike Judy, I exuded quiet confidence as we approached the gatehouse and cruised right on by as the guy inside gave the merest glance to our "A" sticker. After that, it was all exhilaration, and if the high five had been invented, we'd have done one.
We continued to use the "A" sticker for two semesters, but when our friend moved, we couldn't use that method any longer. Luckily someone mentioned to me that if I was interested in teaching technical writing, that course paid $100 more per class per semester than teaching freshman English. I was teaching two classes, and it happened that $200 more per semester would put me into the "A" sticker bracket. That's how I wound up teaching technical writing for the rest of my career as a teaching assistant. And also how I continued to park on Inner Campus Drive for the rest of my time at UT, no longer a petty criminal but an honest man.
So we needed a campus parking sticker. Students got a "C" sticker, which cost $3 when I was a first a student. I don't have any idea how much it was then or how much it is now, but I didn't want a student permit. The parking lots for students weren't as far away from campus as our apartment, but they were fairly distant. Judy didn't like walking that far. Since she was working on campus, only a block or so from where I'd have an office, and I was working, too, we qualified for a better class of sticker.
The stickers for faculty and staff were "A" and "B" stickers. Which one you got was determined by your salary, and you can guess which one we qualified for. They wouldn't let us combine our salaries, so we had to settle for a "B" sticker. The "B" parking wasn't much more convenient than the "C" sticker would have been, but it appeared that there was nothing else we could do.
However, as you've guessed, I wouldn't be writing this if a solution hadn't presented itself. The statute of limitations has long since expired on our crime, so now the story can be told. We knew someone who shall, even after this long interval, remain nameless. She worked in the office where the stickers were issued. Not only that, but she qualified for an "A" sticker. Because of her position, she could get two "A" stickers, one for each of her cars. Except that she had only one car.
I don't know whose idea it was, but someone suggested that she could get a second sticker and give it to us. No one would ever know unless we violated some rule, which we assured her we would never do. So soon enough we were in possession of the coveted "A" parking sticker. Not only could we park in the "A" lots, but we could park on the Inner Campus drive, right by Parlin Hall, the home of the English Department, if we got to campus early enough.
I'm not sure that parking is still allowed on Inner Campus Drive, but in those days all the entrances to the campus were guarded by guys in little gatehouses. If you didn't have an "A" sticker, you were stopped, questioned, and sent to Gitmo if you didn't have a good reason to be entering the campus. Okay, I made up the Gitmo part, but the rest is true.
I'll never forget the first day of driving to work with the "A" sticker firmly secured to the front windshield of our '67 Plymouth Fury III (that's it in the photo up above). There was a little bit of trepidation as we approached the gatehouse, especially on Judy's part. She didn't have a criminal nature, as she proved many years later when we were on a train that was going to cross the border between Austria and Germany. But that's another story for another time. Maybe. This time, she was nervous. How nervous was she? She looked and acted like someone who'd just robbed a bank, shooting and killing two of the guards. I hoped the guy in the gatehouse couldn't see into the car too well.
Unlike Judy, I exuded quiet confidence as we approached the gatehouse and cruised right on by as the guy inside gave the merest glance to our "A" sticker. After that, it was all exhilaration, and if the high five had been invented, we'd have done one.
We continued to use the "A" sticker for two semesters, but when our friend moved, we couldn't use that method any longer. Luckily someone mentioned to me that if I was interested in teaching technical writing, that course paid $100 more per class per semester than teaching freshman English. I was teaching two classes, and it happened that $200 more per semester would put me into the "A" sticker bracket. That's how I wound up teaching technical writing for the rest of my career as a teaching assistant. And also how I continued to park on Inner Campus Drive for the rest of my time at UT, no longer a petty criminal but an honest man.
Spectacular First Editions from the 1970s
Spectacular First Editions from the 1970s: The 1970s saw end of the Vietnam War, the dawn of disco, the first commercially available microwave oven, the energy crisis, and the election of Margaret Thatcher. It was a decade of contradictions and nowhere was that more evident than in the world of books. From The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison's profound 1970 debut, right through to the New Journalism of Tom Wolfe's The Right Stuff in 1979, the'70s produced some of the 20th century's most compelling literature.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
I Want to Believe!
Except it's too late for me. Anti-ageing drug could let you live to 120 in good health
James Prideaux, R. I. P.
The New York Times: James Prideaux, who wrote television movies that starred Katharine Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor and a play for which Julie Harris won a Tony Award for best actress, died on Nov. 18 in West Hills, Calif. He was 88.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
Hat tip to Jeff Meyerson.
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