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A dam fine Easter weekend.

I know this might be hard to believe, but do you see those piles of debris?  Those are the remnants of beaver dams.  Beavers are itinerant, as it turns out, and will abandon dams for subsequent strongholds upstream.

That was one a few damn cool things that I got to see during my weekend in Mount Vernon; a great friend of mine generously invited me out to meet her family and spend the Easter holiday around George Washington’s home.  (That’s it in the last picture.)  The third photo you see is an apple tree in her yard — the metal skirt around its base is to fend off beavers.  If you peek through it, you can see the damage it sustained when the little buggers tried to chew through its base and carry it right off.

People in Virginia always look at me funny when I say this, but we absolutely do not have stuff like this on Long Island!

Mount Vernon is beautiful.  I spotted a … black-winged condor, I think?  There is also a wailing nocturnal fox that frequents my friend’s property, as well, but she didn’t put in an appearance.

Anyway, there are also photos halfway down of what is probably the scariest looking tree I’ve ever seen.  It’s more than 150 years old, and it looks dead, even if it isn’t.  To me, that coarse, gray, clutching swarm of equally dead-looking vines looks like an otherworldly,  witch-summoned spiderweb.

I commented that it would be a genesis for a horror story idea.  One of my hosts, who is only fourteen years old, spun a tale on the spot that would be far better than anything I could come up with.

 

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I have a possessed skull plasma lamp, and I’m f$%&ing thrilled with it.

I have entered into a period of my life at which fiscal responsibility is of paramount importance.  So of course I bought a $35 skull-shaped interactive lightning-shooting plasma lamp with no warranty last night from Spencer’s.

This is possibly the best decision I have ever made in my life.  Aside from the massive coolness evident in the pictures below, it has the added feature of actually being possessed.  Consider the following:

  1.  It is impossible to photograph.  Those photos you see below?  They were yielded from a Google image search.  Something goes wrong every single time I try to snap a shot of my product in action — you cannot see the sublimely excellent rainbow lightning shooting from its base to the inner circumference of the glass skull. It just shows a whitish, otherworldly flare!  Like angel fire!  Or the wrath of Abbadon!  Or anything, ever, in a J.J. Abrams movie!
  2. The MOMENT after I attempted these photos, the battery light on my digital camera flashed and the entire device went dead.  COINCIDENCE?
  3. EVERY time I turn it on, my computer malfunctions.  I SWEAR I am not making this up.  Whenever the lamp is activated, I lose all control of my cursor, which simply leaps and twitches and shudders around my screen like a terrified jitterbug.  (That is a real species, right?)

Anyway, I cannot articulate how wicked this thing is.  It’s a damn fine product.  Like any plasma lamp, when you touch it, the caged lightning shoots to the point where your hands make contact with its surface.  [EDIT: “wicked” is early 80’s slang for something that is very, very good, and very, very impressive.]

This product will be an outstanding muse for a horror writer who hasn’t published or posted anything in a very long time.  (I know you people have been totally cool about that.  Would you believe I have a bunch of handwritten short stories that I just need to typeset and submit?  There’s a really cool time travel story!)

It also has an “audio” function which is kind of a mystery to me … apparently this is a function in which only sound activates the lightning?  I switched that on, then clapped a few times, but nothing happened.  I was perplexed.  (The third photo below illustrates me being perplexed.)  Then I just began shouting random words at it.  I started with “NATE WADE!!!”  I have no idea why; apparently there’s some free association thing going on there that I can’t explain.

Still no luck.  I consulted the packaging but found its instructions sparse.  They reminded me that this product indeed has a “Sound Responsive Mode,” but says little of help beyond that.  Then the box exhorts me repeatedly to “GET THE PARTY STARTED,” but those are redundant instructions, because, Christ, I do that every time I breathe.

Tonight I am going to blast Slipknot’s “Psychosocial” to find out if that will do the trick.  I figure that’s just the song to placate an angry ghost.  I’ll also replace the batteries in my camera, and this time try to shoot video.

Unless my camera now is just too demonically damaged.  We’ll see.

 

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I almost typed “a short haiku,” but I figure that would be a redundancy.

The good folks over at Dead Snakes were kind enough yesterday to feature a haiku I penned.  Click the link for “Sideburns Haiku” by Ye Olde Nolan:

“Sideburns Haiku,” by Eric Robert Nolan

Anyway, every time I think of the word “sideburns,” I think of the Tony Travis song of the same name, performed in 1953’s “The Beatniks.”  Only Mystery Science Theater 3000 fans will know what I am talking about.

 

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Photo credit: “John Raphael Smith by Francis Chantrey (with thanks to the V&A for allowing photography)” by Jonathan Cardy – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=29629944

Walter Langley’s “Never Morning Wore To Evening But Some Heart Did Break,” 1894

Oil on canvas.

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Pietro Fragiacomo’s “Tristezza,” 1895

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“The … Stalking Dead?” (A review of “Daredevil” S2E1)

[THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ONE SPOILER.]  So the fantastic John Bernthal is now the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s “Punisher,” debuting (however briefly) in the first episode of Netflix’ “Daredevil” Season 2.  I just know that there is a great “Walking Dead” joke hiding around here somewhere; but I can’t seem to put my finger on it …  (Something about … Blind Grimes?  Disabled Rick?  Daredevil can’t see “stuff?”  Or “thangs?”)  You people work that out for me.

Bernthal’s arrival is dream casting, every bit as perfect as bagging the inimitable Robert Downey, Jr. as the MCU’s Iron Man.  Even though the actor speaks only a single word, it’s goddam beautiful.

That’s one of the better things about Season 2’s first outing, which, for me, fell into the category of “good, but not great.”  (I’d still give it an 8 out of 10, and I feel certain the season will get better.)  What we see in S2E1 is mostly setup.  The episode clearly tried to introduce tension by grooming the Punisher as a frightening antagonist, with limited success.  Even casual Marvel fans know that Frank Castle is a good guy, and nothing close to a Big Bad.  Yes, he’s an anti-hero who fatally shoots villains, and will be a foil for Matt Murdock’s Boy Scout restraint (as he was in the comics, back in the day).

But I doubt that the Punisher can be made scary or truly tension-inducing.  (Are we afraid of Wolverine?)  We know that his shoot-em-up tactics won’t leave Daredevil dead.  (This isn’t “Game of Thrones” or TWD.)  And I’d guess that most viewers, like me, aren’t too emotionally invested in this show’s minor characters.  (The only exception would be the quite interesting and three-dimensional Karen Page, still wonderfully portrayed by Deborah Ann Woll.)  Hell, I think the show would be better if the painfully annoying Foggy Nelson were made an early casualty.  Finally, if the show stays true to the original comics, then the Punisher has that most sympathetic of “origin stories” — a murdered nuclear family.

Both the Punisher and Bernthal have such devoted fanbases that a lot of viewers will probably root for him against Matt.  (Our very own Blog Correspondent Len Ornstein, for example, was known for firmly being on “Team Shane” for TWD.)  Looking back at my fervent comic-collecting days in the 1990’s, I seem to recall the Punisher having a far bigger fan following.  He was a mercenary and Vietnam veteran who simply shot up whatever corner of the Marvel Comics universe to which his quarry had tried in vain to escape.  Fans compared him to DC Comics’ iconic cash cow, Batman.  Matt Murdock, on the other hand, had niche appeal.  He was a liberal superhero if there ever was one — a Columbia-educated defense attorney who employed nonfatal force, and who fought for the “everyday man on the street.”  He was like a grownup, thoughtful, socially conscious Spider-Man.  If ever there was a comic book hero who would join the American Civil Liberties Union, it was Daredevil.

Moving forward, I think that Netflix will need an altogether different adversary than Castle to raise the stakes emotionally, and bring suspense to its second season.  Maybe the show will accomplish that with Elektra, who we know will also appear.  (And fans of the comics know that this integral character has far greater implications for our hero.)

The new season’s inaugural episode might have been slightly better if it had been tweaked elsewhere, as well.  Much ominous language is devoted to characterizing the Punisher as a killer with military proficiency.  We kinda don’t see that.  The largest action set piece shows no precision or professionalism, just a room full of gangsters being hosed down by gunfire from an offscreen shooter.  And while the sequence itself was dramatic, it seemed like something that could have been perpetrated by a (very well armed) street gang in a drive-by shooting.

We also see some of the dialogue problems that were so evident in the first season — as superb as the screenwriters are, they don’t do casual conversation among friends very well.  There’s the same forced banter and an embarrassing lack of chemistry among the three lead protagonists, this time on display during an awkwardly staged after-work barroom pool game.  (It’s particularly puzzling because Woll and Charlie Cox are both very good actors.)  This show scripts its villains, petty crooks and adversaries with such flair — why does it seem to fail so often with friendly conversation?  And why bother with these strange attempts at Scooby-Gang camaraderie in the first place?  I think it’s a weird creative choice.  These are serious characters leading serious lives.  It seems implausible to me that they should be so frequently upbeat anyway.

Hey — if I’m nitpicking a lot here, it’s only because I love the show, and consequently hold it to a very high standard.  It really is the best superhero adaptation on television.  My review of last season was absolutely glowing, and I honestly think that Season 2 will be just as good.  If you haven’t checked out “Daredevil” yet, you ought to.

 

 

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Check out MWC Alum Steve Miller’s virtual silkscreen art!

Here’s something I’ve been meaning to post for a while now — I am the proud owner of two “photographic virtual silkscreens” by the talented Alexandria artist Steve Miller.  I mentioned these prints on the blog when Steve sent them to me, but I never posted photos.

Steve is an old friend of mine, and a fellow graduate of Mary Washington College.  (No absurd “UMW” appellations will appear on this blog.)  As I’ve mentioned here in the past, some of my favorite memories of college were partying with the gang at Steve’s room in “The Tunnel” between Mason and Randolph Halls.  (I was a nervous and hyperactive freshman in the Fall of 1990; Steve and a few other upperclassmen there took me under their collective wing, and taught me to chill out and listen to the Beatles like a respectable Virginian young man.)  Steve is the tall guy in the shades in our group photo below.

But Steve was also a great friend because he’s one of the first true artists I had in my peer group.  He was a great creative influence, and taught me to dig good music, laid back friends and offbeat, unusual art.  I’d like to think it made me a far more well rounded young person.  To this day, whenever I hear The Allman Brothers (whose work was gospel to our crowd), I think of The Tunnel.

Steve’s work with virtual silkscreening was my introduction to the medium.  It’s cool and trippy; I love the vibe it brings to my place.

Check out Steve’s site here:

http://virtualsilkscreens.com/

 

 

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A few quick words about “Last Shift” (2014)

“Last Shift” (2014) came highly recommended.  It didn’t quite meet my consequent expectations, as aspects of it seemed amateurish — I felt there were problems with plotting, pacing, structure and even sound editing.  (I just couldn’t always discern what was said by the voice on the phone.)

But it was still good enough for me to rate it a 7 out of 10, thanks primarily to an interesting premise, a solid lead actress, and some genuinely scary moments.  Juliana Harkavy does just fine as a rookie cop working alone on her first shift — on the titular last shift of a police station being shuttered after a new facility opens elsewhere.  She carries the movie well as demonic shenanigans ensue at the haunted site, even if, at times, it seems she needed better direction about her character’s mood and reactions.

And the scares were there, which means this does qualify as a successful horror movie.  One, for example, results from an extended sequence involving a dropped flashlight — it’s creative and effective despite its simplicity.  Another scare results from what seems to be a direct homage to “Poltergeist” (1982) — but it might be even creepier here.

This is a decent enough fright flick; it’s worth checking out.

 

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“Sunrise Over Cadillac Mountain” (photo)

Let’s see if I understand the story here … if you reach the top of Maine’s Cadillac Mountain during autumn or winter, you can see the sun rise over the United States for the first time that day?  Hot damn if that isn’t a great excuse for a road trip.  I’ve been hoping  to take a long journey to Maine with a couple of buddies of mine in New York — this would be a perfect destination.

Mount Desert Island, where the mountain is situated, is so far north that I figure it must be easy to just hop on a boat and hit Nova Scotia.  That’s a place I’ve always wanted to see, ever since we studied it in Geography 101 at Mary Washington College.  I might have gotten a “D” in that class, but Nova Scotia’s beauty was still not lost on me.

 

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Photo credit:  By Bandan (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons.

“Wounded pride and fallen hope and baffled desire.”

“Without waiting for his father’s questions he ran across the road and began to walk at breakneck speed down the hill. He hardly knew where he was walking. Pride and hope and desire like crushed herbs in his heart sent up vapours of maddening incense before the eyes of his mind. He strode down the hill amid the tumult of sudden risen vapours of wounded pride and fallen hope and baffled desire. They streamed upwards before his anguished eyes in dense and maddening fumes and passed away above him till at last the air was clear and cold again.”

— possibly my favorite quote from James Joyce’s “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.”  I wanted to feature an Irish writer today, and Yeats’ “An Irish Airman Foresees His Death” is already always plastered all over my social media.

 

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