Military.com: posted CNN video of security companies and new defense mechanisms set to aggressively combat pirates.

I’m glad there were pirates in history because I really didn’t want to be a clown on Halloween as a kid.

note: whoever said ” Those who live by the swordfish  die by the swordfish” must have been talking to someone called “Fish“.

double note: I haven’t heard of too many people  being attacked by swords recently … there must have been a government crackdown on that or something.

triple note: I used to think it was “Pontius the Pirate” when I was a kid.

quadruple note:   wordpress  is having a video contest for things people are thankful for. I don’t have a video camera to be thankful for this year, but …
I thought I’d just throw some things I’m thankful for out there.

.

notes to myself #68

The first professional play you see is “Treasure Island” in Vancouver. It blows your little mind … and is probably the reason you wear a pirate costume every year on Halloween.

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When I woke up, I immediately flipped open my antiquated  workstation from where I lay in bed. It sprang to life with renewed vigor, a needlessly complex reformatting was still treating the Z-140x as well as one would expect within the first week. All that mattered was that I could access a network again, and within seconds I was connecting to the Magnate family’s portal. Though Allan and Rikka’s terminals were silent, and Ploki was still asleep, his porti was downloading a large file, so there was a little latency in the sphere.

After sliding through the various social webs I keep a profile in, checking my multiple inboxes and even the dashboard control panel for this tlog, finding no new messages in each, I hovered purposelessly in the internet for a few moments, idly rapping my fingertips on the case of the computer. I’d hoped by then I would have at least received word back from Olympus Coast College about my application or student financial aid. Not knowing what else to do, I brought up a window from an interplanetary newsource, probably based on Earth. The stark headlines it launched at me in grim menacing boldface startled me at first.

– [FLU DEATH TOLLS IN THE UNITED TERRITORIES ESTIMATED AT 3,900] –

– [NEPTUNIAN PIRATES FAIL TO CAPTURE IONIAN CARGOSHIP SECOND TIME] –

– [TIPS TO SURVIVE BLACK FRIDAY AND SHOPPING BATTLEGROUNDS THIS HOLIDAY SEASON] –

Suddenly concerned for my health, and worried that all those months of not worrying weren’t going to pay off, I thumbed over the article. I truly detest the tricks these fear mongering, ad-savvy newsources use to optimize search results to generate some more hits each day. The report is contrary to the one just a couple of days ago which calculated deaths to be closer to 130, so I just figured they wanted to claim that all of the regular annual flu deaths had been attributed to the H1N1 virus. I closed the window before I could see how many of those confirmed deaths were on Mars, lest I become a victim of the pharmaceutical industry’s scare tactics.

The next window informed me pirates had been thwarted in their attempt to gain control of a ship leaving the orbit of Galatea. Either by coincidence or the attractiveness of the damn thing, it was the same ship hijacked last spring near those same waters. These marauders from the sixth moon of Neptune have reportedly captured over 50 vessels, and seemed to have a pretty good reputation until the Euxine Carolina was rescued by UT marines earlier this year. This time, the enhanced security placed onboard the hundred-ton spacefreighter was able to resolve any issue before it even developed into one.

I didn’t care about holiday bloodbaths or a house with a bunch of dead people in it. I couldn’t be compelled to look too deep into the stories reported by the Ganymedean newsource or an associated feed I’d brought up in the background while I digested these either. I really didn’t care about Earth’s prison camp or the election being gorked up on Ceres, or any of the other news they don‘t often openly address in Earth media. I’m usually enthralled with that sort of stuff.

I brought SpaceBook, my main social network, back into focus and updated my status to something disparaging to human nature for letting the media get so commercial, and closed my clunky old porti.

As if stirred by a ripple in a pond, Ploki Magnate rolled over in his bed. As he rested, he’d probably been able to sense so many similar, relatively tiny waves just and slept right through it. But a rock being thrown into the pond from so close may have felt like a surge against the barriers of his constant digital stream. He sat up, rubbing the side of is head.

“Oh, good morning, Ploki,” I said, realizing I hadn’t actually spoken a word to anyone when my voice cracked. The name already sounded a little strange to the tongue since it was a throwback to old hacker slang from days when a keyboard similar mine would still have been used. It was the handle that he chose to go by in all of his social avenues, virtual or not.

“Morning,” he said, not looking up from the glow of the button already alight in his hands. It illuminated his sharp face and the accentuated Ganymedean features. If he had antennae or pointy ears I would have seen them in the wash of blue light, but his head was framed only by a short haircut and a little scruff of beard.  “What’s this about the news?” he asked me, responding to the notification that woke him.

“Huh? Oh, well ther-” I began before he cut me off, he’d obviously brought up the headlines.

“Pirates…prison camp…experiment demonstrates possibility of life in Centauri?” he read aloud, a questioning tone as he wondered if he’d already heard that somewhere.

I was rising off my futon bed and walking as I replied. “I think that whole thing’s a ruse to get more scientific funding for exploration,” I grumbled as I stepped into the kitchen to scrounge up something.

“So it’s better we don’t find life outside the Solar system? You’re so cynical, Klay.” He was beginning to wake and warm up, getting out of bed only to settle into his computer chair.

I spoke to him over the kitchen counter, his workstation setup just on the other side. Anyone who used this kitchen couldn’t help but feel watched if he was seated there, though his eyes hardly rose from his screen. “No, I just think it’s going to be a huge bust if it turns out we went all the way there again and didn’t find anything … again,” there was little I came across in the fridge that screamed edible to me.

“Well it won’t be any bigger of a waste than if that money went to the defense budget,” his sleek porti connected to the portal the second he touched it, and in moments he was tangled in his various webs. “They got something like 700 bil for the military, just for a single year. That calculates to almost 2 billion a day.”

“Gork,” I exclaimed, slamming an unyielding cupboard. “Nothing’s looking appealing to me in here, wanna start the vaporizer?”

He glanced at the time and yelled “Fire it up!”

«←→»

Hunger was of the few things that could involuntarily force someone out into the big, scary world; and even then there are the options of fast food, take-out and delivery services to minimize a given human’s exposure to the outside as much as possible.

Ploki and I trod along the broad walkways of Newport’s Style Isle. Fashioned by The Caspian Company after a cookie-cutter Ionian Mission, it was a way to disguise their corporate headquarters as an outdoor shopping mall and gain a little extra revenue. It’s not actually an island, just a small mesa overlooking the Amazonian Ocean, and was used by natives in the past for their jamborees. Glancing back over my shoulder, I could see it twinkling like a thousand diamonds in the midday light, beyond the rows of fancy crawlers, oily parking spaces and pristine, artificial palm trees.

I used to work here. Tucked away in the digital media section of Style Isle’s outdated bookstore, I toiled the first year I lived on Mars. The commute to Newport from Fender was treacherous at the least, a whole 30 minutes. It was enough to make the job feel not worth it to me, spending the entirety of my only raise on the fuel it took just to get to work late every day.

We wove amongst the flow of shoppers, consisting mostly of wealthy women who didn’t need to be making any more money. It always felt a little strange, walking amongst the same people I used to serve, calmly passing them decked out in their most splendid weekday attire. From the hottest trends off the runways in Mihr Patera to soft velour sweat suits encrusted in rhinestones. Large embellished sunglasses, gaudy jewelry and any number of insanely eye-catching accessories glinted and dangled in the red sun.

Anything they could afford to distract or cover up the seams between cosmetic surgery and plastic treatments. Neck-tucks and antenna-removal scars can still be tricky to hide, and that’s where expensive bronze and ivory make-up assisted. They perfectly mimicked the exemplary mannequins, stiff in the windows beside them but so posh. I cringed to think what these reptiles would look like without any mods.

Just a few minutes there and I’d already seen  too many aged women showing off their new breasts and arms, many of which still needed some tightening and laser treatments to erase the damage of decades of sun exposure. Gray roots hid under platinum blonde, deep crows feet under cakes of eye shadow, and I’m sure I would have noticed the stench of death if it weren’t for the aroma of nail polish and hair products. I just wanted to find the cheapest place to grab a bite, then get the hell out of this commercial trap.

“I’m so excited for my appointment next week!” Ploki said, grinning ear to ear. “I’m going to get my license, and then my new toy will be completely legitimate,” there was so much glee behind his eyes as he said this.

“I just hopes it work’s out for you, it would suck if you were denied cause you didn’t qualify,” I pointed out, though that would be just as upsetting to all of us.

“Seriously,” he replied and winced with his blue eyes, tryinag not to imagine that possibility.

I turned to my Martian friend as we rounded a corner near the geyser fountain. “Hey, Ploki, can you look something up for me real quick?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, slid his button out of his pocket and unlocked the palm-held device. The flat, blue screen lit up in broad daylight, appearing a few inches above his hand.  It rested on a faint laser cone, projected from the solitary LED eye; simplicity was the only identifying feature of an AM-3Gi button. He called up a search application, and looked at me, asking “What do you need?”

“Gork, that was fast. Don’t you still have to connect to a network with that thing?”

“No, I canceled that basic service that came with it.” He pointed to his temple with his free hand, saying “I’ve been auged.”

“Ahh, now it makes sense, you are your own sphere,” I looked at him again as if I’d be able to see it’s sheen around him now. “That’s astro, I’d love to get a chip one day,” I said quietly.

The cyborg’s eyes locked on me in disbelief. “What? You haven’t been auged?” the question rang loud here, even outside. Any sort of alterations, whether internal or external, are regarded highly by those of status, and I’m sure any of the women who could afford a boost in confidence could pay an extra few thousand to have a little silicon implanted in their heads, too.

I looked around at no scowling faces or judging eyes, surprisingly. “No, what makes you think I have?”

“I totally thought you were. You don’t have extra memory in there?” he asked, genuinely amazed I hadn’t undergone any sort of capacity upgrade.

“No, not at all,” I said with as little pride as I could show these technophilic Newpsies.

“Huh, I could have sworn. Hmm…well I guess you just have a good memory then,” he said, adjusting to the idea of my head being emptier than his.

“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment…especially coming from a machine,” I said facetiously.

He protested “Hey, I’m still mostly human!”

“Whatevs, Robot. Find me the cheapest food around,” I commanded.

He grumbled, and returned his gaze to the screen, manipulating the flattened beam that the browser was illustrated upon with the swish of his fingertips. He looked up, over to the other side of the food court we had just meandered into. “There. The pizza place has the lowest cost here,” he said at once.

“Wow, you found it that quick?” I said, astounded by his technology again.

“No, I just remembered,” he said with a grin, adding “Gorker.”

After we finished our two-dollar slices of pizza pie, and made our way back through the mess of grotesque human facsimiles, we found ourselves at his little, cerulean crawler. The two-door hatchback always reminded me of my elusive vehicle, though his wasn’t built on Ganymede.

His Saturnian-made Polaris was probably of a finer construction than my rodent. The interior had been optimized for comfort and visibility, so much so that even the HUD cowling had been displaced to the center of the dashboard, creating more storage areas.

At the press of the ignition switch, the engine whined and instruments illuminated with bright blue light, similar to the glow of the Ploki’s button, which now rested in a crèche on the center console. It supplied music from it’s harddrive to the entertainment system, and the driver or passenger could easily control media with the interface on either end.

We hurried home, where Allan waited for our return. He’d sequestered himself into his room, determined to make full use of his burgeoning class-load by doing everything he could to pass them all. Little had been seen of him, except when he needed transit to and from campus, or when there was a bi-weekly jam, or if Nymh had come over to lure him out, though she just as often did nothing to make him want to leave the room.

Similar could be said of the youngest of the Magnate siblings. Rikka was often out of the house since she was usually working one of her two jobs, and only appeared in sharp, semi-formal outfits when she was home from either, or on her way to an interview for a third. Attention seeking and a hypochondriac, she was currently fighting a bout with the deadly flu upstairs in her quarters, and no one could tell if she were actually sick or not.

I’d become good friends with Ploki over the previous weeks, finding similar interests was easy for us; or something like that. It could have been something to do with being the same age as me, or that he was easier to tolerate for an entire day than his often boisterous older brother. Perhaps it was because we had planned to move to that ski resort in Cyane this winter and had begun pre-roommate rituals of bonding. But it’s probably just because we both share the ground level of the house, he and I sleeping in the living room and family room, respectively.

We arrived back at his house in the mid-afternoon and immediately return to our positions in front of our workstations. Using some sort of control on his terminal, he remotely activated his brand new vaporizer, allowing it to warm up the 600 seconds so it will work properly. He then sent a message through the sphere to let Allan know he’d have about ten minutes to find a stopping point.

By force of habit, I brought up the newsources again with my renewed net connection, feeling warm with this novelty: the privilege of fresh information afforded only to those who have the technological means. By the look of the new banners, it seems healthcare reforms were stagnated by both sides of UT government, Earth’s new president visited Titan, and strife continued between warring factions on little Davidia.

A terrorist plot on another Earth skyscraper was foiled, a fusion plant in New Ganymede almost meltdown again and AM would probably release a new model of the button over the holidays. Students protested an increase in tuition rates at University of Mars campuses, a ferry crash in The Rings left 26 dead and the sequel to that stupid teenage-heartthrob-vampire movie broke box office records this weekend.

I closed all the windows at once and brought up one of my bookmarked links: a streaming, real-time image of the star Sol. I zoomed in partway, only until I spotted the well recognizable shapes of the gas giants, the thin haze of asteroid belts and the glint off the terrestrial worlds orbiting close the yellow main-sequence star. If it weren’t for a ticker running the time at the bottom you would have sworn it was just a still image, captured by a traveler from some rocket’s window.

I attempted to imagine for a moment that I was peering out of that porthole at the static but majestic view. I tried to picture myself away from any apprehensions of holidays, pirates, finances or vaccinations. It wasn’t working.

I collapsed the screen of the outdated porti. “Hey Ploki,” I called as I stood up, “I’m getting Allan whether that machine of yours is ready or not.”

]]> http://danikreeft.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/my-sea-my-pining/ Wed, 25 Nov 2009 18:58:12 +0000 danikreeft http://danikreeft.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/my-sea-my-pining/

english bay, vancouver. yesterday.

i stood by the edge of the sea yesterday. i felt like i was in an old nautical painting.

like i was an ancient sailor pining for the blue depths and grizzly pirates. waiting to once again sit below deck chasing rum and cackling about one-eyed pete’s fishing tales. the exaggerated ones he tells right before he falls off his stool. 

the rain dripped off the front of my black hood as the barges in english bay bobbed in the water as if in a bathtub. their little lights barely peaking through the fog, whispering for company. it was really cold. and the whole world felt alone.

i’ve never really considered myself a daydreamer. but maybe i am.
or maybe the sea just makes me pine,

desperately pine.

Part the One Hundred Ninety Second is up now, a day early in order to work around the Thanksgiving weekend here in the States.  Unless you’ve said to yourself on reading the last sentence, “I have to deal with turkey a day early?” you can find the next part here.

And a happy and safe time this weekend to everyone.

The Museum desperately needs your help! Legend has it that a Spanish ship loaded with a fortune of gold went missing somewhere in the Caribbean and was never found. This lost treasure is referred to by locals as the Caribbean Secret. Explore amazing Caribbean locations finding cleverly hidden objects and playing unique minigames to recover the riches in Amazing Adventures – The Caribbean Secret!

Caribbean atmosphere

Gorgeous scenes

Find the treasure!

System Requirements:

OS: Windows XP/Vista

CPU: 600 Mhz

RAM: 256 MB

DirectX: 7.0

Hard Drive: 54 MB

It Takes Just A second To Say Thanks,

It Takes Longer To The Work On This.

Amazing Adventures: The Carribean Secret

San Diego, California

This was reported in San Diego today but never reached the main stream media.

November 24, 2009

The County of San Diego Health and Human Services Agency (HHSA) reports eight additional people have died and tested positive for H1N1. This does not mean H1N1 has been determined to be the cause of death, which is established by the attending physician or the Medical Examiner.

The deceased are:

* A 44-year-old-male with underlying medical conditions
* A 35-year-old female with underlying medical conditions
* A 41-year-old female with underlying medical conditions
* A 42-year-old female with no underlying medical conditions
* A 47-year-old male with underlying medical conditions
* A 67-year-old male non-resident with underlying medical conditions
* A 46-year-old male non-resident with underlying medical conditions
* A 48-year-old female non-resident with underlying medical conditions

The total number of people who have tested positive for H1N1 and died locally is 45. Thirty-eight individuals were San Diego County residents while the others seven were non-residents visiting our community at the time of their death. San Diego County has had 659 hospitalized cases of H1N1 to date.

Second Dose of H1N1 Vaccine for Children Less than 10 Years Old

Children 6 months through 9 years old (until they turn 10 years old) need to receive two doses of H1N1 vaccine. Infants younger than 6 months of age are too young to get the 2009 H1N1 and seasonal flu vaccines. The CDC recommends that the two doses of 2009 H1N1 vaccine be separated by 3 to 4 weeks.

The second dose of H1N1 vaccine will be given to children when there is additional H1N1 vaccine supply in the community. Parents should call their children’s regular medical provider to schedule an appointment for the second dose. If their children’s medical provider does not have H1N1 vaccine (or has not ordered H1N1 vaccine), the second dose may be obtained from a County clinic when additional H1N1 vaccine arrives in the community. It is OK if the second dose of the H1N1 vaccine is given more than 3 to 4 weeks after the first dose – 3 weeks is the shortest recommended time in between the two H1N1 vaccines. While children 6 months through 9 years of age may have some protection against H1N1 infections after the first dose, the most effective protection will come from getting two doses.

Svelte wrote a great review about the new LEGO Imperial Flagship on Eurobricks.

You may read it here.

Oppel’s Airborn brings together an interesting collection of elements from class differences and unconventional plans to pirates and naturalists. The majority of this story occurs aboard an airship which is supposedly flying the skies of the future, however, the storyline also involves an extremely old world set of naturalists talking about making a name through bones and collecting. The pirates are still robbing the rich and establishment to make money and maintain a dark reputation. Oppel’s characters and setting allow the storyline to progress in a believable fashion even if the time period seems to be somewhat in doubt at times. There is both a male, Matt Cruse, and female, Kate De Vries, lead in this story so that it should appeal to either group and the romance is still in the early stages so that it should be readable by younger teens as well as older ones. Another pleasant discovery is that this is the first in a short series that can be read separately or together. The other two are Skybreaker and Starclimber. Skybreaker has Matt and Kate off to find a lost airship and potential treasure. Starclimber has them as part of the first astralnaut team off to face adventure.

  For fantasy, adventure, pirates, airships, and a battle to maintain balance a good choice would be Hayao Miyazaki’s Castle in the Sky. The leads are a princess and a mechanic’s apprentice who are being chased by both pirates and a private military. Earth is in much worse shape due to technology and a lack of nonrenewable resources, but people come together to deal with the challenges presented. This story is available both as a graphic novel and as a film. As with all Miyazaki’s films the animation and the story are worthwhile and happy.

Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island: a graphic novel

Tim Hamilton adapts the original story and brings it to life in a new format. Hopefully the story that might not have been read in a text only format will be enjoyed in this format. This story like Airborn is told from the prospective of a cabin boy, Jim Hawkins, who is supporting his captain in a hunt for treasure. Hamilton’s illustrations look like they could accentuate the darkness of the story and the pirates’ images. 

Pirates! by Celia Rees is about a group of two eighteenth century women who choose the sea and the life of pirates over the tradition options they are facing. Minerva Sharpe leaves a life of slavery and Nancy Kingston leaves a lousy potential marriage. The hijack a trading ship and ply the ocean around Jamaica flying the black sails of piracy.

The Pirate’s Son by Geraldine McCaughrean is about three young people who head to Madagascar to deal with  Tamo’s past. Nathan Gull and his sister Maud are left penniless so their choice to follow Tamo makes sense particularly as they are living in the eighteenth century. They  chose a sea journey in this dangerous time instead of life on the streets or as domestic servants in England if they could get jobs without references.

It’s now a known fact that teenage girls drooling over vampire hunks have the ability to smash box office records.  Disturbing?  Yes.  Surprising?  Not so much.  More after the jump.

$142,839,137 later, the second chapter in the much hyped Twilight series managed to blow previous opening weekend box office records made by juggernauts such as Spider-Man and the ever lackluster Pirates Of The Caribbean:  At World’s End out of the water, both of which managed to pull in $400,000,000+ by the end of their theatrical run.    Axed Twilight director Catherine Hardwicke’s head must be rolling right about now seeing as how the first Twilight only managed to pull in about $70,000,000 it’s opening weekend last November.

It just goes to show that the combination of Robert Pattinson’s good looks, Kristin Stewart’s horrendous acting and Dakota Fanning dressed up like a teenage girl at an Evanescence show circa 2003 is truly box office gold.

Work and other commitments have left me slow at posting updates, but here’s the lowdown from around the globe:

–Twenty-one persons taken hostage in the southern Philippines have been found dead. Authorities blamed political rivalry for the murder of the 13 women and 8 men.

–A 12-year-old girl is allegedly among those hostages being held by Somali pirates. The girl – identified by a former Spanish hostage who was released after being held on another boat – is the daughter of Ukrainian crew members aboard the Ariana, one of several vessels captured by pirates in recent weeks.

–A deal is said to be close to being made that would secure the release of Gilad Shalit from his Hamas captors. Shalit, an Israeli soldier, was seized three years ago. His captors have demanded freedom for more than 400 Palestinian prisoners in exchange for his release.

–The remains of a Briton taken hostage in Lebanon decades ago have been identified. Alec Collett, a UN employee, was abducted during the civil war by Palestinian guerrillas. Human remains were found last week at an excavation site in an area notorious for banditry and kidnapping.

–Pope Benedict XVI has received a helmet from a group of motorcyclists who rode to Rome to highlight the plight of hostages in Colombia. The Pope welcomed the riders, who included journalist Herbin Hoyos, and said he would pray for the release of all hostages.

The black one is really nice, but the white one cost $12 less. $20.

Despite their Cinderella status, the Antelope Valley College soccer team knows it has the defensive unit to compete with the likes of Ventura in the postseason.

“We are the underdog, but we are not (tired for) third in the state in (goals allowed) for nothing.” Marauders coach jerry Stupar said. “There is nobody that can come roll over us.”

Number 15 seeded AVC’s defensive fortitude will be tested as much as it has been all season when it travels to play #2 Ventura tonight at 7PM in the regional quarterfinals. Undermanned in terms of depth and in an unfamiliar postseason setting, the marauders (16-3) will try to advance by relying on the style that has carried them to a record setting season.

“We have to work hard for the whole 90 minutes to not give up anything.” sophomore stopper Shannon Cox said, “Hopefully we can hold them off and get one in.”

While AVC is embarking on its first ever postseason contest, Ventura has never missed the playoffs in 14 seasons as a program. Until being narrowly beat out in the Western State conference North Division race by #4 Moorpark this year, the Pirates (16-3-1) had won a conference title every season. Ventura’s only coach Steve Hoffman had lost just 36 games entering the year. Only seven more than AVC lost in the two seasons leading up to Stupar’s arrival in 2008.

The Pirates have been in such a lofty perch as recently as last season, when they earned the #2 seed. However, Ventura was upset by #7 San Diego Mesa in the semis.

“We’ve got what we wanted,” Hoffman told the Ventura County Star. “We were there last year, hopefully we learned something.” The Marauders hope they haven’t. “I’m hoping the come out complacent on us, they come out like they’re going to have an easy seed against us, like it’s going to be easy for them.” Stupar said. “And we’re going to come out strong.”

Ventur’s offense isn’t shrouded in much mystery. Its succes hinges on midfielder Jazmarae Strozier, who is tied for the state’s goal lead with 27. Her main partner is forward Alyssa McDonald who has 18 assists, which tells Stupar “we know who is feeding who all day long.”

To neutralize Strozier as best as possible, Stupar is toying with the idea of having one of his defenders, likely sophomore Chelsea Porter, mark her throughout and starting Cox, a team captain, at sweeper. If enacted, Cox’s move back will be just a temporary solution, with the Marauders, who won’t have the fortune of substituting as often as the Pirates, needing maximum effort from all their starters for the entire match.

“Our offense is going to have to do what it does, get at least one or two goals, while our defense continues to do what it’s done all year long,” Stupar said.

While unable to knock off Foothill Conference champion San Bernardino Valley in the regular season, the Marauders are pulling confidence from their two meetings. The #3 Wolverines took the first match with a late goal on a questionable non-off sides call and, after surrendering three first half goals in the rematch, AVC, outplayed San Bernardino Valley in the second while outscoring them 1-0. Plus AVC pulled up a defender and spent that final period in a 3-4-3 formation and still held the State’s second leading scoring team scoreless for 45 minutes.

“If we play the way we did (then), we will contend with Ventura and have the opportunity to beat them, “Stupar said. “The question is if we can play at that level the entire match.”

After 10 seasons without a playoff appearance, AVC will see that answered tonight.

A couple of times during my brief residence here in West Virginia, I’ve stopped by the local Foodland (read: small, inadequate, oftentimes dirty-ish grocery store) to pick up a few things later on a Friday night.  (I realize how lame that makes me sound, grocery shopping late on a Friday night, but I swear it’s only to drop in to get milk or something and it’s after all of my cool kid festivities are over.  I swear.)  Each time I’ve visited the Foodland on Friday evening, I see him.  A pirate.  Shining the floors with an industrial-sized buffer.  To be fair, I don’t know if he’s a real pirate but he was wearing an eye patch and seemed kinda dirty.  Possibly smelly.  So, based on all things stereotype, there is a pirate who cleans the floors at Foodland on Friday nights.  He got me thinking though.  I’m sure pirates have real jobs when they aren’t out sailing the high seas.  What are some other jobs that pirates may have in the off-season?  Certainly there’s no hope in major league baseball (Zing!  I got you, Pittsburgh Pirates!).  Here are some possibilities though:

Dating Service Spokesman: I mean, who better to help you find your matey than a pirate?  Jack Sparrow, despite his various pirate diseases, always got the girl.

Spanish Tutor: I took Spanish for years and always had trouble rolling my Rs when I came across an “erre.”  I could’ve used a pirate Spanish tutor.  They have plenty of practice with RRRs and I’m sure pirates have picked up speaking skills in various foreign languages during their pillaging travels.

Bus Driver: It takes a skilled navigator to plot a course on the high seas, especially during a storm or while you’re fleeing your enemies.  These skills are easily adaptable to a bus driver navigating the city streets.  I bet if you’re quiet and toss him a few doubloons, he won’t make you walk the plank.

Mall Cop: Who better to patrol retail stores during the holiday shopping season than a pirate?  He knows exactly what kind of swindling and swashbuckling to look out for.  Get that pirate a Segway and it’ll make him feel like he’s surveying from the crow’s nest.

Bounty Hunter: It seems like a logical transition from a booty hunter to a bounty hunter.  I like to think that a pirate would welcome the opportunity to hunt for criminals rather than be the hunted—or he could turn out to be both!

Pawn Shop Owner: Everyone knows that pirates have the ultimate skills in business and bartering, not to mention their eye for quality goods.  I don’t know about you, but I’d visit Blackbeard’s Treasure Chest and Pawn Shop.

Arrrrt Teacher: To be honest, I don’t know what qualifies a pirate to be an art teacher.  Arrgh and Arrrt was just an easy comparison.

In other pirate news, have you ever wondered what your pirate name may be?  Thanks to my sister-in-law and her knowledge of all things pirate, here is a quiz to help you out with that one:  http://www.piratequiz.com/.  For the record, my pirate name is Dirty Anne Bonney.

The reviews are starting to come in for Michael Crichton’s PIRATE LATITUDES, a surprise discovered after the author’s death on his hard drive (the 21^st century equivalent of the bottom drawer, perhaps?):

• The NY TIMES didn’t think much of it, noting that its weaknesses may be due to the manuscript not being polished up before his death
• ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY right with the first sentence that it might have been better had it not seen the light of day
• The AP review via MSNBC was even less kind
• Notice at THE WALL STREET JOURNAL cites the first two reviews as well as the review at PEOPLE WEEKLY along the same ilk, and has link to an excerpt from Chapter 6; the excerpt sort of speaks for itself…

If nothing else, it encouraged a Flash-animated spot for the book from the UK, soon to be followed by a film adaptation to be directed by Steven Spielberg, which means more interest in pirates to come from the same wide audience that showed up when Disney released the PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN films.

As a side note, discussions of Crichton’s work mention that part of the crew of privateers assembled includes the pirate Lazue, a wily French woman who is an accomplished sea artist.

No, I don’t want to go there; nope, won’t even try…

An old Euri cartoon from way back has made its way onto a t-shirt. Here is a story, actually The Story, with Dick Gordon, with some of what is going on in the land of the Pirates these days.

SuperBagel built a small MOC that illustrates the soldier returning home. The building itself is a nice constrtuction but what appealed to me was the fancy sheep and the chandelier.

See more at Flickr.

Part the One Hundred Ninety First is now up, and may be read here. 

A word of warning:  I’m posting the next part a day earlier, in order to clear more time for the Thanksgiving weekend.  Expect to see the next installment about 24 hours earlier than usual.

Crec que, al segle XXI, la veritable amenaça la suposa certa colla de gent per qui tu i jo som infrahumans. Aquesta gent d’estretor mental simplement no reconeix el nostre dret a viure. No l’importa amb qui tracta -russos, jueus, tàrtars, francesos, anglesos o qualsevol- tots els som iguals. Per aquests som només una civilització supèrflua que cal anihilar. Esperem que els nostres companys occidentals s’adonin de com aquests paios ens amenacen en igual mesura i que aquesta plaga avançant sobre Europa ens engolirà mentre tots anem discutint.

Quant a la pirateria ara hi han pirates desfermats a Somàlia i demà, al meu parer, la costa africana sencera serà un eixam de pirates sense que hi hagin prou vaixells de guerra per contenir-los. Hi ha una immensa distància entre Europa i el Tercer Món. Hi emergeix una nova civilització segons qui l’hemisferi nord i blanc sempre l’ha oprimit i arran això cal ser ara anihilat. Això és molt seriós.

Si la civilització del nord vol defensar-se li cal estar unida: Amèrica, la Unió Europa i Rússia. Sense estar units seràn vençuts un rere l’altre.

Mariners bascos, exemple de força en l'unitat

[I think that in the XXI century, the real threat is posed by a certain bunch of people who think that you and I are second-class people. Those close-minded people simply don’t recognize our right to live. They don’t care who they are dealing with – Russians, Jews, Tatars, French, or British, or whoever, – they are all the same to them. To them, we are just a worthless civilization that must be destroyed. Let’s hope our Western counterparts realise that those guys threaten us all in equal measure and that this plague advancing on the European continent will engulf us while we are all arguing.

As for piracy, there are pirates rampant in Somalia, and tomorrow, I think, the entire African coast will be swarming with pirates, and there will not be enough warships to keep them at bay. There is an enormous distance between Europe and the Third World. There is a new civilization emerging in the Third World that thinks that the white, northern hemisphere has always oppressed it and must therefore fall at its feet now. This is very serious

If the northern civilization wants to protect itself, it must be united: America, the European Union, and Russia. If they are not together, they will be defeated one by one.]

Són paraules de Dimitri Rogozin, ambaixador de Rússia a l’OTAN, sobre la pirateria i el que hi rau realment. Alhora que d’altres pretenen fer passar aquests somalis com herois i víctimes dels pescadors gallecs i bascos a qui han robat, segrestat i torturat. A qui només pot retreure’s de treballar durament com mai no han intentat de fer aquests somalis. Qui al decurs d’aquests darrers segles poc més han fet que empaitar i caçar altres africans per vendre’ls com esclaus als àrabs que, prèviament, els havien islamitzat i fet un dels seus proveïdors d’esclaus. Poc més excepte, com encara avui fan, piratejar. L’única diferència és que ara l’esquerra postcomunista els justifica i, a sobre, blasma a qui pateixen els seus abusos en ser europeus. Gairebé segur que també ho faria sí, fins i tot, els venguessin com esclaus.

This is one of my favorite songs from the Disney version of ‘Peter Pan’ where the pirates espouse the virtues of pirate-hood. Today, I’m feeling their joy/pain…

I’ve been working with the cockatiel Roxie0 (who is now trying to type) to get her out of the cage and more into+ being handled. It’s been a learning experienc0e for5 me and iI t0hink she is enjoying it, too. She obviously doesn’t enjoy paying bills as she was content to watch me do it. Thank goodness. I’m not sure my bank account could have survived her on the number pad.

So it seems that she doesn’t like my typing on the keyboard, although she’s back up on my shoulder again. Which brings me back to the pirate thing. I understand now why pirates had wonky hair: their parrots were ‘preening’ them when they were talking.

Roxie has been working on my hair this morning. I’m not sure if I should be flattered that she loves me so much or annoyed that she thinks I’m not spending enough time styling. At least she spends as much time on herself as me.

Next come earrings. Pirates wore (wear?) big gold earrings. The set I’m wearing presently aren’t big, but they do have a little gold with a pretty purple stone. Although I’m not so sure how pretty it is now covered with bird spittle. I’ve come to the conclusion that pirates’ earrings are worn to keep the parrots from munching on their earlobes. Ouch!

And finally, the wild costumes. I mean, pirates would have to search high & low to find some of the crazy outfits they wore, but why? Today I have the answer: to disguise all of the little ‘presents’ that birds leave when they are perched on your shoulder.

Isn’t it fun when life gives you answers to the questions no one ever asks. Makes life adventurous.

Aargh…until next time…