I’m very pleased to share here that my poem “This Windy Morning” was published today by The Piker Press. You can find it right here.
The Piker Press is an outstanding online journal of arts, sciences, fiction and non-fiction, and I remain grateful to Editor Sand Pilarski for allowing me to share my voice with its readers.
(And don’t you just love that artwork they selected?!)
[THIS POST CONTAINS *MAJOR* SPOILERS FOR “GAME OF THRONES.”]
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That terrifying moment when you realize that the Night King has air superiority, and can probably convert it to naval superiority …
What if he flies over the ocean and “converts” the entire Golden Company as they’re enroute to Westeros from Essos? That way the army of the dead can attack from the south with a navy, in addition to attacking from the north. Things were easier when he couldn’t just fly anywhere and augment his forces wherever he wanted, right?
If the Night King DOESN’T follow this (apparently most logical) strategy, and attack from two fronts, would it be a plot hole?
I at first wondered if maybe the Night King needed to be near his wights in order to animate them. But … the captured wight in Season 7 was alllll the way down in King’s Landing when our heroes showed it to Cersei, while the Night King and the white walkers hadn’t even gotten to the Wall yet. And that wight up and got jiggy with it just fine.
Bear in mind that Dany’s dragons appear capable of flying virtually anywhere in a very short period of time; fans even decried the “plot hole” when the dragons flew so inexplicably quickly from Dragonstone to north of The Wall to rescue Jon Snow’s wight-hunting party. I suppose we could lampshade this by saying that their speed is indeterminate because they’re magical creatures.
And the undead dragon at the end of Season 7 looked like it was moving even faster than a live dragon, right? This was consistent with what we’ve already seen on the show. The wights, animated by magic, often move a lot faster than living humans.
Yeah, you’re right — it’s a laundry day, which is why I’m procrastinating again by sitting here blogging about “Game of Thrones.”
“The past was alterable. The past never had been altered.
“Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Oceania had always been at war with Eastasia. A large part of the political literature of five years was now completely obsolete. Reports and records of all kinds, newspapers, books, pamphlets, films, sound-tracks, photographs — all had to be rectified at lightning speed. Although no directive was ever issued, it was known that the chiefs of the Department intended that within one week no reference to the war with Eurasia, or the alliance with Eastasia, should remain in existence anywhere. ”
— from George Orwell’s “Nineteen Eighty-Four”
I CAN’T SEE why I wouldn’t sign something like that.
That was terrible. If this were the Marvel Cinematic Universe, people would actually ask Thanos to ash me.
Anyway, the petition over at Change.org has 48,840 signatures as of this writing, and it’s climbing quickly toward its target goal of 50,000. It’s even been endorsed by Vincent D’Onofrio, who portrays “Kingpin” on the program.
I swear that it takes all of three seconds to sign. And what could it hurt? It worked for Fox’ “Firefly,” right? (Although it didn’t work for NBC’s “Hannibal.”)
You can find it right here.
Hey, gang. I’m honored to share here that my poem “school shooter” was featured this morning over at Winedrunk Sidewalk: Shipwrecked in Trumpland. I am quite grateful to Editor John Grochalski for allowing me to share my voice there.
Winedrunk Sidewalk is an online venue featuring poetry, fiction, art and photography inspired by the Age of Trump — 365 days a year. It’s a great place to share your impressions with other Americans, and it’s also easy to submit your own work.
You can find my poem right here.
You think that 80’s kids are old? Well, I also have memories of the 1970’s; after all, they fully occupied the first seven years of my life.
And I remember “Donny and Marie” (1976-1979), which ran on ABC. It was a sanity-challenging, Kafkaesque combination of disco, country music, family entertainment, themed-comedy skits, sequined outfits and … ice-skating. Which made it either the height of 70’s cheese or the very nadir of Western civilization — you decide.
I’m embarrassed to admit here that I loved it, even if I was a tot at the time. (Hey, if you’re five or six years old, then the sight of Donny being a non-threatening goofball on stage was the very height of hilarity.) You can see what I mean in the second clip below, if you can stomach all four minutes of it.
What’s interesting about this show is that it was kind of a dinosaur in its time … variety shows had been on the decline for a while in the late 1970’s, and were already being supplanted by the situation comedies that would become the trademark of the 1980’s. Bizarrely, NBC tried to launch Marie in her own solo variety show during the 1980-81 television season, but it just didn’t catch on. It was cancelled after seven episodes.
What’s truly crazy is that Donny and Marie are still performing in Las Vegas. I kid you not. Google it. You can even see them tonight at The Flamingo. There’s at least a chance that they’re immortal vampires.
Postscript: I at first typed “Donny and Maurie” in that blog post headline, and I feel certain there’s a terrible joke hiding there somewhere about Donny hearing the results of paternity test on “Maury Povich.” That would make a great “Saturday Night Live” sketch.
What’s with all the people in music videos looking so damn young these days? Did they change the child labor laws?
There was a time when I was daily viewer of MTV (the sedate stuff on VH-1 was for old people), and I rocked hard, people. It seemed to me that whenever I watched a video, I saw people who were my own age.
Now these videos are inhabited only by people who look young enough to be my kids. And that makes sense, because … they kinda are young enough. (Yes, I realize the video below for The Calling’s “Wherever You Will Go” was made 18 years ago, but that’s beside the point.) If the performers in a video today were in their very early 20’s, then they’d be about the right age, if I’d fathered kids when I was 26.
Furthermore, some astute commentators pointed out online Monday night that 2019 is the year in which the original “Blade Runner” (1982) was set. The opening title card names “November, 2019” as the time when all things Fordesque turn angsty and existential and killer-androidy. Am I … older than Harrison Ford’s character? I am six years older than Ford was when he made the film.
Now I just feel weird. Why do I write these blog posts, anyway?
[Update: Today I am learning that “Akira” (1988) and “The Running Man” (1987) also set their stories in 2019?! That’s ironic, given that the future we’ve come closest to is that of 2006’s “Idiocracy.”
I wonder how people in our parents’ generation felt when 2001 arrived, if they’d happened to see “2001: A Space Odyssey” in theaters in 1968.]
Care to peruse some of the poetry I’ve published in 2018?
You can find it here at the blog at the My poetry, 2018 page.
Have fun! Be safe! Enjoy!
Make sure you have a designated driver! Or, better yet … why not be the designated driver? What better way to spend the first hours of 2019 than as a hero to the people around you (maybe not the hero that Gotham deserves, but the hero it needs right now)?
I’m not sure how I’ve gotten to become such a mother hen in my old age … Maybe it’s because, in my younger days, I was the one who needed mother henning.
Whatever, just don’t wind up like Gatsby, floating face down in the pool at the end of the night. (But go ahead and totally be him up until that point.)
Postscript — the quote below, which I rather like, doesn’t appear in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” or its 2013 film treatment with Leonardo DiCaprio. I’m told that the line actually originates from “Sex and the City” (1998 – 2004).
Today’s agenda — help my fellow Greeks breach Troy’s defenses by constructing a vast, hollow wooden replica of my head and having them hide within it.
CALL IT THE TROJAN DORK.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 