2012- The Year in Bastardy

While I know that the country is still mired in a lot of crap, I myself enjoyed a really good 2012. For starters, I received a promotion on the job, which was a welcome surprise. In my blogging endeavors, the big news was being invited to join the wonderful Rumproast team. Here at my personal blog, I cracked the 100,000 hits mark and the three year mark. I also had one of my posts featured in Tengrain's blog roundup at Crooks and Liars... it was truly shocking to see how the stat counter can be moved by such a link!

As far as my writing goes, I think the high point was coining the phrase posse conmantatus. If I had to pick a "most important" post, I'd have to go with my recapitulation of Dr Adam Sobel's "Secret Science Club" lecture on Superstorm Sandy. Throughout my blogging career, my lecture summaries have been the most challenging and most enjoyable writing "assignments"- thanks to the Secret Science Club, I have to bring my "A" game at least once a month. I also did a write-up of a great lecture by N__B earlier this year. As far as goofery goes, I'd have to go with the H.P. LOLcraft post. I still think that The Shadow Out of Time would make a great basis for a heartwarming children's story.

Bringing the blogging realm and real life together, I met the amazing Major Kong (his "Daily Kos" diaries are now on the blogroll), joining him and old blogging chum N__B for a beer in midtown Manhattan.

Personally, I can't complain about 2012, but I know that the economy is still bad, and I have friends who haven't had a good time of things. I sure as hell hope that 2013 is a better one for everybody, but I'm not exactly optimistic about Congress getting its act together and deciding that people actually need help. It would be nice to be surprised.

Wishing all of my readers a safe, happy, and prosperous new year... thanks for all of your support and friendship throughout this year.

Been Working a Lot of Graveyard Shifts...

Lately, I have been working a lot of graveyard shifts, and I think I may be going a little batty. In a comment at Brando's blog, I invoked the specter of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer slashfic. At first, I proposed "Rudolph/Hermie" slash, but I had to double down on the disturbing antics by deciding that "Yukon Cornelius/Abominable Snowman" slash was even more transgressive. Now, at four in the morning, stuck at work while a biting wind blows fallen snow all around the building, I have decided to implement my fiendish slashfic scheme in order to while away the wee hours of the morning.

It goes without saying that this particular version of "Rudolph" is a Spankin/Ass production (I note that, hilariously, teh wikiwakiw00 uses a "slash" in "Rankin/Bass" rather than a hyphen, which leads me to wonder if there's any Rankin/Bass slashfic out there). Our present fictive abomination takes place in the interim between Yukon Cornelius' fight with the Abominable Snow Monster, and **SPOILER ALERT** their triumphant return after a tender reconciliation:





For those of you who value your sanity, you may wish to stop reading before I totally ruin Christmas specials forevermore...


Yukon Cornelius slowly came to awareness after a period of unconsciousness. The last thing he remembered was falling over a cliff while locked in a deadly clinch with the Abominable Snow Monster. He'd always thought that he'd die alone, his frozen corpse found by Inuit hunters or eaten by the small white foxes that patrol the tundra. To die locked in combat with an implacable foe would have seemed unthinkable... and yet he lived! Or did he? As he became aware of his surroundings, he noticed that he was lying on the softest surface he'd ever encountered. He briefly thought back to a fancy bordello in Nome that he had visited after a particularly rich haul of gold nuggets, and the feel of satin sheets and eiderdown comforters on his skin. He thought of the saucy tart* who had entertained him throughout the night- her brash laughter, bawdy jocularity, and smooth skin such a contrast to the furtive, shame-faced, rough men he'd coupled with in the mining camps. He thought even further back to his early days in the North Country, when his frequent jaunts to the barrel earned him the nickname Yukon Cornholius. How distant those days seemed! Wondering at this new stage of his life, lying on what seemed to be a luxurious rug, he dismissed the idea that he'd died and gone to heaven only because of the throbbing pain in his head. As his vision returned, he saw the dirty white pelt on which he'd lain, and realized that it was actually the pelt of the monster! His initial horror dissipated as he basked in the beast's fuzzy softness. As the beast came to, their eyes locked... Yukon was shocked to see that they weren't merely the eyes of a beast- there was some sort of reckoning behind those eyes. The Abominable Snow Monster's gaze seemed to become tentatively tender- all hostility evaporated from the creature's expression. Yukon looked at the newly toothless mouth of the beast, which gave the formerly ferocious creature a vulnerable look, and he thought back to a legend recounted around the campfires throughout the Territory- the legend of a old, retired prospector who, due to his arthritically cramped hands (permanently cramped as if they were gripping a pickaxe handle), and his toothless mouth, was reputed to be able to service a procession of prospectors in rapid succession- and he laughed out loud to think of his once-feared opponent as a docile playmate. He exultantly shouted, "BUMBLES BOUNCE! By thunder, I'm going to bounce this Bumble!!!"


Uh, I can't continue with this... I may be going nuts from working graveyard shifts, but going further would be a bridge too far. Sure, it's one thing to be transgressive, but this post is already Wronger than a Football Bat. Now, for a different style of transgression, I have to wonder what bronies think of Clarice the Reindeer (voiced in lovely fashion by Janet Orenstein):





Would Clarice be appealing to bronies, or would her fuzzy texture and lack of sparkles make her seem drab and wan? Could the bronies "clop" to Rudolph?

Now, to get away from the Bad Wrongness permeating this post, I have to confess that I am currently pissed that I am not the first person to realize that Han Solo is a ripoff of Yukon Cornelius- GAHHHH, even the odious James Lileks beat me to the punch here.

Now, lest you think I'm the only nutball here, here's more BAD WRONG FUN (NSFW language) takes on the red-nosed reindeer.


*The random number generator came up "57":

UPDATE: I'd be remiss if I didn't post ZRM's take on Yukon/Bumble slash: "Bumbles are Bottoms!"

Amazing Grace

A recent story about a Florida pawn shop owner stopping gun sales in his shop reminded me a bit of the biography of John Newton, the man who wrote the hymn Amazing Grace. A former slave-trader, Newton had an epiphany which resulted in his disavowal of the institution of slavery, from which he had profited (oddly enough, he seems to have been enslaved by a "bigger" player in the slave trade for a while).

At any rate, the "redemption" story is somewhat similar- a man involved in an unsavory trade has a "Road to Damascus" moment, and forgoes profits for a clear conscience. Unfortunately, he's "small potatoes" in the arms dealing world, he only stands to lose thousands of dollars in revenue. Tragically, the million-dollar players in the arms trade will continue to push their agenda and their weapons... and the body count continues to pile up.

Derive Job Satisfaction Any Way You Can!

Last night, I was working at a site which has been overrun by brown marmorated stink bugs- they seek the warmth of the office, and occasionally make their presence known by taking flight. Whenever I get an opportunity to smash one of the little buggers, I gleefully take it (they're invasive, there's nothing wrong in playing SMASHY SMASHY). When they are smashed, they release a scent which is often compared to that of cilantro. I think the smell is reminiscent of camphor... oddly enough, I don't find it all that unpleasant.

I was in sheer bliss last night, I must have smashed half a dozen of the little perishers. It's the little things that make you truly happy, even the little smashed things around the office.

Whoa, This is a Family Museum!

It's a shame that Accidental Dong seems to have gone the way of the Accidental Dodo... happily, I figure I can do my part to fill the vacuum left by the disappearance of the "dong".

Yesterday, I visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art with my sister, brother-in-law, and their two sons. In the "arms and armor" wing of the museum, they displayed the armor of Ribaldo the Dickhead, Duke of Cazzogrosso:

According to a placard, the helmet of this piece was removed for restoration work... one woulda thunk that someone on the staff of the museum would have realized what a boner neglecting to cover this dong-y dummy was. I imagine the person responsible is a real putz.

Boxing Day Partings

My sister, my brother-in-law, and my nephews are heading back to Georgia after their somewhat spur-of-the-moment Christmas trip to New York. It's been a fun few days, even though I'm beat from juggling work with socializing. Oddly enough, I have today off, so I'll be able to catch up on some sleep.

New York City takes on a whole new atmosphere during the Christmas season... it's like the setting for a fairytale...

Today is also the Feast of St Stephen, which means that the bars will all be full in my neck of the woods (I live in the tavern district of my fair city). Sadly, though, I'll be working a split-shift on the 27th, so I won't be able to play the boozehound.

Have a Badass Christmas, People!

Merry Christmas to all of my readers. I've been working the graveyard shift, which has largely entailed watching a white Christmas morph into a gray, slushy one as the snow which had been falling in the evening turned to a light rain. Oh, well, Dearest Joey sang "it ain't Christmas if there ain't no snow", but I remember more white Easters than white Christmases here in the NY metro area.

I've never hidden the fact that I love, love, love Joan Jett, so I'm posting her badass take on a Christmas classic to serve as my Christmas post:






Now, how's this for a Christmas surprise? I had no idea that Joan Jett recorded a cover of the Ramones' Judy is a Punk:





Of course, now that I posted a video for a Ramones cover, I feel that I must post the Ramones' beloved Christmas song:





Have a badass Christmas, everybody!