Eurovision 2024 Semi-Final Recap & Thoughts

Who’s ready for the greatest annual singing competition? EUROVISION! It’s fun, it’s weird, and it’s time to see what the hell the world is offering up to the gods of 2024. I hear we’re in for giant eggs, lots of furries, and a spinning satellite dish. Let’s do this.

FIRST SEMI FINALS:

It’s early days, May 2024. Plenty of fans won’t even watch yet so as not to spoil the best acts. That is a mistake. There is a ton worth watching (and voting for) that might–unfairly–not make it through to future rounds. Okay, each of the two Semi Finals will let through 10 of the 15 to the Grand Finals–five sad losers each night.

CYPRUS: It’s fun, it’s…generic. A thousand other gorgeous women with their bellies whipping around could do the same. Sorry, Cyprus. I’m guessing this won’t go through. FAIL PREDICTION

SERBIA: Dramatic! It’s emo Rivendell. I think I’m here for it. Except…if I was only listening to this song and not seeing the show I don’t think I’d like it so much. Loving the visuals, though. They’ll get through.

LITHUANIA: Here is your dance club special. It pops, it moves. It’s not original, but it does make me want to dance and maybe do some drugs. They’ll get through, I think.

IRELAND: THIS! I don’t know what the hell this is! But it’s witchy FANTASTIC. Yes, I’m totally biased, but this was effing weird and memorable. I’m all in. I mean, I’m ALL IN. The sound was good, the look was terrifying. And THIS is why I watch Eurovision.

UK: (Already qualified) This is the most homoerotic show I’ve ever seen. To be clear, that is saying a great deal. The performance is engaging, no doubt. The song content/lyrics have almost nothing to do with the performance though. I mean, I could sing “I’m a Little Teapot” and still have an erotic-ass stage show. Whips and chains. “…Short and stout!” It’s just incongruous. So, flash-over-substance fail.

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The Stardust Fire: The Real Story

It was an age of disco and punk, wide lapels, and hairspray. 1981. Friday, 13 of February, in a northern Dublin suburb called Artane, The Stardust nightclub held a Valentine’s Disco Championship Dinner. The girls and women glammed up and the young lads mostly donned jackets and ties. This was the place to be on that winter evening for a night of drinks, dancing, flirting, and fun. Over 800 young people showed up to boogie. Most were still there until the wee hours–after 1am on Valentine’s Day proper.

That’s when the fire started. Unbelievable heat, flames, choking smoke, burning droplets raining from the ceiling. Within a matter of minutes the DJ’s records had stopped spinning and flames engulfed the entire club, killing 48 people. Many of them burned alive, left unidentifiable in the ashen ruins. In some cases, dental records and jewellery were the only way loved ones could identify which body to bury. Hundreds who survived were left charred and maimed. Families were destroyed and suffer to this day and beyond. And no one has ever been held fully to account.

I want to tell the story of what happened.

It’s important, not just to honour and remember the lives that were lost, but to openly recognise the deception, reckless decisions, and intimidation that has shrouded a wealthy family at the centre of it, all of which has protected them from ever facing up to their own culpability.

To this day, more than 40 years later, investigations are still ongoing. I flip through news articles and websites trying to understand. Many overviews, like Wikipedia, are intentionally vague, given that the facts are so disputed and muddled. So I dig a little deeper. The story gets crazier, but it also becomes like quicksand, pulling me into forensic details and licencing and permits and fire service proximity. There is a void of information in between the two worlds of cautious summaries and ordinance mires.

I want to tell the story of what happened. I want to make it accessible and as honest as possible with the information available to the general public. I want us all to remember.

This is the story of the Stardust Fire.

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The West Cork Murder Case: Sophie Toscan du Plantier and Suspect Ian Bailey

UPDATE: 2024

Below is my personal analysis and theories on the gruesome murder of Sophie Toscan du Plantier in West Cork, Ireland, 1996. This was an article that attracted the attention of the case’s prime suspect who reacted to it personally on Twitter in a less than favourable light (as you can read at the end of this article). That suspect–Ian Bailey–passed away in recent days at the age of 66.

He collapsed in public due to a heart attack. It was his third in less than a year. After his first two episodes in 2023, he claimed that it was the stress of the everlasting accusations that had weakened his life. That might be true. But he also led a very hard lifestyle that easily could have compromised his longevity.

To this day I still have substantial doubts that he was the murderer. But I have never been certain. Now it appears that if he was harbouring a major secret about Sophie’s death, it has gone with him to the grave. His ex-partner Jules, or even Marie Farrell, maybe–just maybe–still have secrets to reveal.

This is a grim reminder though that this case has grown quite cold and the sands of time are sweeping away any chance we may have had for truth. Hopefully with time also comes peace.

The West Cork Murder Case: Sophie Toscan du Plantier and Suspect Ian Bailey

My true crime obsession: The murder of Sophie Toscan du Plantier in a remote area of West Cork, Ireland, 1996. A French woman–wealthy, attractive, and free-spirited, spending a Christmas holiday alone in her remote Irish cottage–turned up dead. No, not dead. Savagely murdered. Bludgeoned with multiple rocks and a cinder block, her nightclothes snagged in brambles and her body laid open to the sky on the edge of a dirt driving path.

Continue reading “The West Cork Murder Case: Sophie Toscan du Plantier and Suspect Ian Bailey”

Coca Cola’s Very Unfortunate Christmas Can Design

Fuzzy of sight and thought, my work brain was struggling to stay focused on the spreadsheet ahead of me. I just wanted my Christmas break to begin. I had been caffeinating all day to sharpen my attention but it was hardly working. My eyes fleetingly rested on the Coca Cola Zero can in front of my monitor and I casually thought, “oh, that filthy Santa again.” And I sighed.

Wait. What?

Did my brain subconsciously believe the Coke can was filthy? I mean, I have a dirty mind, but this is SANTA. It took only a few more seconds to recognize what my inner perv had been seeing.

The Coca Cola Christmas can has a very naughty image. Here it is:

The black, gray, and white design portrays Santa leaning back on some sort of…decorative ornament cushion? Well, he’s kicking off his second boot with his stocking foot and relaxing with a stripey bottle of Coca Cola. Very innocent and casual.

…OR IS HE?

My glance caught a very different scene. What I see is a very jolly Santa having his way with a Victorian-era lady…from behind. While she sobs. She has a dark long-sleeved dress with a puffy striped skirt that obscures Santa’s naughtier bits. She is bent over leaning into a furry item, with her bundled up hairdo hiding her face.

Don’t see it? Look again.

In my interpretation, she’s wearing a green frock and clutching a pink scarf as she sobs facedown.

Oh, Santa. The shame. Just for the taste of it…dirty Coke!

Postscript: I’ve been chided that perhaps she isn’t sobbing, but rather…enjoying herself. I’ll let you be the judge.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles: A Drunken Rewatch of a Classic

It’s November. A chill is in the air and the fire is crackling. That can only mean one thing: it’s time to uncork unscrew the cap from a bottle of wine and turn on the ultimate Thanksgiving movie: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.

If you haven’t seen this 1987 classic, you’re in for a holiday farce about love, travel, and breaking through all of your personal shit–just in time for the holiday. The layyyers of Thanksgiving themes are so good you’ll want a giant blue parka, some roadside diner coffee (and your rental agreement) every single Thanksgiving. Com’on–Mr. Heckles drives a wicked taxiola, Del vibrates some beer cans, and Steve Martin throws some f-bombs that were 80s-shocking. It’s magnificent.

For those of you just here for the commentary, it’s gonna be a wild ride. I have no idea how I’m going to mock this movie–which is what I usually do with these types of write-ups. I usually shit on the characters or the writing or annnnnything. But this movie is, arguably, perfection. I have no idea how this is all going to go down.

So get your gobblers ready, adjust your car seat, and leave your socks on–because we don’t care to breathe your foot odor. It’s time for an annual rewatch of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles!

LET’S HIT THE ROAD!

PLANES, TRAINS, and AUTOMOBILES RE-WATCH

01:15 – Man, I don’t think I ever noticed just how posh and enormous that makeup exec’s office/boardroom is. It’s like an 80s palace. It has TWO fireplaces!

2:40 – Ferris Bueller’s dad is pretty evil here with those eyebrows. That would’ve fuckin freaked me out if I was riding in that elevator. Like, what? We’ll never make it down to the 6th floor? Is there a bomb? What DO YOU KNOW?

3:07 – It’s Kevin Bacon! Man, did John Hughes have a lot of pull back then.

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Rocky Horror Picture Show: Audience Participation Script (Modern Adap…tation)

Hello creatures of the night. Rocky Horror Picture Show is the sublime, weird mass freakout that so many of us voluntarily join at least once a year. Unless you’re a Virgin, then you don’t realize what you’ve been…missing.

If you’ve tried to throw a special Rocky Horror event, then you might have recognized a few problems: The original audience participation scripts conceived in the 1970s are pretty…out of date. There are a lot of references to homosexuality that are no good. To say the least. Plus–and I’m not Janet-level prude–I really am not wild about the word “slut”. Us women, we like our sexuality and most of us aren’t down with shaming our wild, wild ways. Otherwise, there are other issues about really dated references. Nixon? Scott-brand toilet paper?

Don’t worry! I’m not trying to remake the script. I’ve kept it classic and familiar. The biggest change you’ll find is that I’ve taken to calling Janet “shitface”. Because she really is. Worry not, Dr. Scott, you and your victims are gonna love this script.

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How to Play the Irish Card Game “25”

If there is one card game that has been played across the rural pubs of Ireland for generations, it is 25. Late at night you can still spot local men crowded around tables with pints, slinging cards quickly and collecting their winnings. Not that I’m saying there’s betting. Of course not. It looks like fun and I want to know how to keep up.

The problem is, while the pubgoers make it look easy, it turns out this isn’t the easiest card game to learn. It’s a basic trick-taking game. That’s clear enough. Take 5 tricks (or “lifts”) and you win the jackpot game.

Where it gets difficult (or “tricky?” Heh heh) is the ranking of the cards, which is wildly different than any other game I’ve seen. That won’t stop us though. It’s a slight learning curve, but it’s worth the effort. Let’s figure out this quaint traditional Irish game together.

Overview:

For 4-6 players. This is a quick trick-taking game using a standard deck of cards. Each person plays one card and the highest ranking card earns its player the “lift”. 5 lifts and you win. There is no partnership, only a single winner.

What You Need:

1 deck of playing cards (remove the jokers)

Set-Up:

  • Deal each player 5 cards, in batches of 3 and then 2.
  • The Dealer turns up the card at the top of the deal deck. This is the trump suit.
  • ROBBING: Immediately, the player holding the Ace of trump suit may rob the newly flipped card. They should place any card from their hand into a facedown discard pile, then take the revealed trump card into their hand. (This is optional.)
  • The player to the Dealer’s left begins the play. They play a card that is considered the Leading Card.

A Player’s Turn:

  • You must look at your hand and choose a single card to play–largely based on what the Leading Card was.
  • If the Leading Card is non-trump, you must follow suit or play a trump card (your choice, you don’t need to play leading suit if you’d rather play trump).
  • If the Leading Card was trump, you must play trump. UNLESS…if you have one of the 3 golden trump cards (5, J, or A of hearts). They are immune. You can NEVER be forced to play those golden cards.
  • If the Leading card was trump and you have none, you may play any card (dump your garbage!)
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Trump’s Big Fat Weight Lie

Fulton County walked a fine line. The press and the public demanded a mugshot and full booking info just like any other accused criminal. But there had to be pressure. Of course there was–almost certainly from powerful and wealthy players. Release the info, but his team gets clearance first.

If you doubt for a second that such a compromise was reached begrudgingly on both sides, read up on the booking comments. Hair: “Blond or Strawberry”. A fresh dye may excuse this overly generous description. But the mugshot is tell-tale. Take a look at the lighting and his features. His fierce scowl, the way the side light hits his nose and jaw. Look at the chin. See how it doesn’t look quite natural, actually quite smudged? The (proper) right side of his face also looks quite smudged. It’s as flattering as it gets for a man who doesn’t typically scream “photogenic”.

If you think this was a lucky snap on a terrible day for the former president, consider what his alleged co-conspirators looked like during their mugshot sessions with the same agency:

Four are terribly washed out. One (upper left) is generally out of focus. The rest show every line, most of them reflecting a harsh light source from above. In fact, none of these don’t have a light spot or band across the face. Except for Trump. He has no shadow under his (proper) right eye, as he should. But he does have a soft light glow on his right shoulder. It’s wrong. The lighting is wrong. The details of his features are wrong. None of the problems severe–in fact, very well executed. Except, if we’re being honest, you noticed that the photo just doesn’t look quite right. Right? Even if you’re not sure how or why.

Continue reading “Trump’s Big Fat Weight Lie”

Sleepless in Seattle: Live Watching It 30 Years Later

It’s summertime right now, almost exactly 30 years–down to the day–when Sleepless in Seattle was released in American theaters. Yes, summertime. In the 90s that usually meant big budget alien-fighting movies, disaster movies, and then a few sports ball movies. And somehow studio executives sat down and decided that a romantic film centered around Christmas and Valentine’s Day would play best in the sweltering heat when everyone’s too damp and sticky to want to smoosh.

Guys, I have no idea how this movie was such a huge commercial success. I mean, it has to be the star power. Tom Hanks. Meg Ryan. Bill Pullman. Rosie O’Donnell. (Note: Three of these four starred in A League of Their Own at about the same time.)

Yes. That has to be it, because aside from the seasonal mismatch, this movie is also effing insane and not very enjoyable–except that it is enjoyable. I think. Kinda. I don’t get it.

Really, be warned first-time viewers, this movie isn’t good. It isn’t actually romantic, mostly. Not very funny either, on the whole. Sure, a couple chuckles maybe. It just makes me sad.

Plus–and let’s be very clear about this–the plot makes no sense. It wasn’t even plausible when call-in radio was still a thing. I’ll get into it more while we’re watching, but Jonah’s actions make no sense, Annie’s actions make no sense (and are deranged), and a lot of people get hurt. This seriously could’ve been an early draft of the first half of Fatal Attraction. I don’t even know what the takeaway is supposed to be, but if this is how love forces work, I’m freakin’ terrified of love. Like a demon that invades peoples’ brains and lays waste to freewill and skyscrapers.

Still, I watch it. It’s a classic that is beloved by so many people, including me. I need to figure this out.

Let’s all climb in our way-back machines to a time before the Internet, when phone cords will still 6 feet long and spiraly. And apparently before anyone thought to bat an eyelash about making maybe the whitest movie in the world.

I’m pouring the wine right now. Together we can figure out what the hell is going on with this movie as I provide blow-by-blow commentary. Roll down your maps, adjust your radio antennae, and get ready to watch along as we rewatch Sleepless in Seattle 30 years later.

LET’S STALK SOME SAD RADIO PEOPLE!

SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE RE-WATCH

0:00 – I haven’t even hit play and I’m already blown away by the horror of this promotional movie image:

They aren’t looking at each other and Meg has this crazy windy glow like she’s looking into the heart of an explosion, while he’s admiring a nickel he just found on the ground.

00:03 – “Mommy got sick.” Yes, the way all great romance stories start. Graveside.

Continue reading “Sleepless in Seattle: Live Watching It 30 Years Later”

A League of Their Own: Live Watching It 30 Years Later

Summertime is absolutely the right time to listen to Tom Hanks urinate while people yell “dirt in the skirt!”. It’s been that way for at least 30 years now, ever since the release of the blockbuster 1992 film, A League of Their Own, starring Geena Davis and Lori Petty. If you haven’t seen this frothy cupcake of a baseball movie before, you’ve been depriving yourself of classic 90s Americana that is so sugary sweet, you’ll need dental surgery and American flag implants.

Inspired by true events, director Penny Marshall decided to sanitize and scrub the early 1940s into such a pasty white, flag-waving, dad-hugging Ameritopia that it veers away from historical accuracy with irresponsible abandon. It’s what they did in the 90s. (See also: Independence Day, The Sandlot, Angels in the Outfield, The Little Rascals, and Dennis the Menace.) So, yeah, it’s inherently flawed in its storytelling to a problematic extent.

But, on the other hand, it’s lady baseball deliciousness. Artificially sentimental and sweet, this movie will just make you smile. Rosie O’Donnell deepthroats a stranger’s hot dog, a kid gets hit in the face with a baseball mitt, and 36 year-old Geena Davis tries to pull off 23. Yes, it has everything.

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How Toy Story Messed Up My Mind Forever

Bogey, my orangutan plush doll from the Shirt Tales TV series sits on my arm chair, staring at me. He is my buddy and a comfort when I need to hide from the world, yes even as a grown-ass adult. His stare is discomforting. Does he remember that I just accidentally let him fall behind the headboard where he remained upside down and squished for nearly two weeks? Is he judging me? Was he in pain? Is he emotionally upset?

Or is he just a soft lump of cotton and polyester filling bundled in cloth fabrics with synthetic hair poking out at wild angles? His eyes are plastic knobs. His faded tag still protrudes from his backside.

I watch and he doesn’t move. Not even the faintest change of expression on his sweet face. Maybe that’s because he can’t move. Whatever terrible, great, awful spell is cast upon him, and every other toy in the universe, has his expression locked like stone. And then that notion is horrifying. Could it be that he is paralyzed with waking thoughts every time I’m in the room? That would make a mind insane. What kind of horrible curse or panoply of gods could allow a sentient being to be locked in such a way?

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Ghost Stories

When it comes to the supernatural I am, by nature, a skeptic. I’d prefer to investigate and discover the rational, if improbable, explanation for strange happenings. And I’ve taken great comfort in knowing that I’ve lived in many different places where I had absolutely no suspicions of paranormal phenomena. In fact, I’m pleased to say that I have not had a ghostly experience in many years.

Know this so that when I present to you a few of my tales of hauntings and odd happenings, you understand that I do not submit them casually or with foregone assumptions, nor should you take it as an embrace of the other-worldly.

Nevertheless, here they are. Ghost stories of my own personal experience and related to you without any attempt to explain their motives or genesis. Happy autumn.

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My Correction to Rolling Stone’s Very Wrong List of “The 100 Greatest TV Shows of All-Time”

Dear lords above and below, Rolling Stone magazine just dropped a list of the greatest TV shows of all-time, and I think my nose is bleeding a little. Their list is an insult to the history of television, to perspective, to ground-breaking significance. The list is so insultingly nonsensical, I fear they are just baiting TV fans like myself. Their Top 10 (TV Shows of ALL-TIME!) includes Fleabag, The Wire, and Atlanta. But no I Love Lucy. No Muppet Show. We need some serious perspective, after all we are trying to live in a society, here! There needs to be recognition of history, inspiration, comedy, impact, and originality. Whomever wrote the list over at Rolling Stone clearly never stayed up all night watching a Nick-At-Nite marathon, singing the theme to Welcome Back, Kotter or Mr. Ed at three in the morning. And here’s another point: Grit does not equal Great. Not necessarily. Perspective!

Here is my correction to their horrifying submission.

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Magic Cards & Your Tax Returns: What You Need to Know

I was going to title this article about taxes something more fantastical, like “How to Cast Magic Cards On Your Taxes” or something really cringey that would force you to quietly deride my incorrect usage of various MTG terminology. But taxes are no laughing matter, and the IRS has recently turned an eye to the hobby/trade.

Yes, I’m sorry to say that thanks to a booming baseball card market, NFTs, and other TCGs, the IRS latently figured out that there was a segment of earnings eluding their taxy clutches. As a result, most MTG sellers are going to be required to report card sales on their Individual Income Tax Returns for the first time ever. Naturally, this extends to other TCG and sporting card transactions–I’m merely using Magic: The Gathering as our primary example. Because MTG rocks.

So let’s take a look at what you need to know and how to move forward so you stay on the IRS happy list and avoid paying more than you have to.

Continue reading “Magic Cards & Your Tax Returns: What You Need to Know”

The New Double Decker Airplane Seats Must Not Happen

I’m sure you’ve seen this photo floating around Twitter and other social media lately–a petite woman grinning from inside an airplane seat compartment, which is nestled delicately under the ass of another airplane seat. This “double decker” or “chaise longue” concept has been floating around because the creator is flogging this deisgn all over Europe currently. This cannot happen. Do you hear me, people of the sky? We must not ever let this come to pass.

If you aren’t sure what I mean, allow me to present the many, many problems with this design:

1. Farts

Let’s just get this right out of the way. It’s a fart coffin. The seat is a freakin’ fart coffin! There isn’t enough plastic, steel, or cushion foam in the world to convince me to sit my face so close to a stranger’s ass. The air needn’t even escape their sphincter–you’d be so close you could taste the gaseous cloud brewing.

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The Fugitive: Live Watching it 30 Years Later

Guys, it’s been (nearly) 30 years since the greatest St. Patrick’s Day/wife murder movie of all-time, The Fugitive, was released in theatres. Endlessly quotable and completely star-studded with incredible before-they-were-big bit parts, if you haven’t been watching this on the regular, you are missing out on a major part of the human experience.

Picture it: Harrison Ford stars as a (spoilers!) wrongly convicted wife murderer who escapes imprisonment and eludes U.S. Marshall Tommy Lee Jones while attempting to find the real murderer. It has egg sandwiches, prosthetic arms, and a parade. What more could you want?

I know! What would make it even better is if I were to rewatch this classic film and provide blow-by-blow commentary while drinking a bottle of wine!

Get your DVRs ready to watch along as we explore what hasn’t aged well, the little easter eggs that make us giggle, and how long it takes the “brilliant” vascular surgeon to realize he loaned out his keys to his sinister friend right before the break-in/murder!

LET’S FUGITIVE!

(NOTE: the timing of the film is based on a cable television download that has ads up front, so my time stamps may not exactly match yours)

The Fugitive Re-Watch

6:28 – There’s a random woman wearing her pearl necklace backwards. Backwards! Someone should tell her.

7:00 – It’s become clear that Helen’s last night on earth was at a fundraiser to watch chicks in thong swimsuits. Sad. Good music.

8:00 – I’m trying to feel for Fugitive as he’s questioned by police, but right now he looks like a 3rd grader regretting a fruit punch spill on his t-shirt, as opposed to a man covered in his wife’s blood. That fruit punch kinda looks like Africa. Huh.

8:00 – Poor Helen. She needn’t have said “I’ll wait up for you…wait up for you…wait up for you…wait up for you.”. Once was enough, lady. He gets it.
(I joke!)

Continue reading “The Fugitive: Live Watching it 30 Years Later”

Defining Low Fantasy vs. High Fantasy

Wizards, goblins, werewolves, fireballs, banquets, swords, and poltergeists. The wild world of fantasy literature is as varied as it is magical. Yet there has been a persistent vision of dividing the genre along two general, somewhat vague classifications: “High fantasy” and “low fantasy.”

Let’s just admit right now that these labels, to which I’m curiously loyal, are problematic. The very names suggest a top-down judgment on quality or sophistication. I know this since I am traditionally a bigger fan of Low Fantasy, while my husband prefers High Fantasy. I notice that he parses the difference between the sub-genres like he’s swirling a snifter full of brandy and puffing on a pipe.

In other words, he tries to claim anything masterful and deep as High, and everything else is the equivalent of literary potato chips. Really, he takes his life in his own hands with some of his comments on the subject.

This issue boiled over recently during a day of shopping followed by an evening trip to the pub. All day long we debated the definition of the binary classification, with the topic even being stripped of all its meat down to the carcass of sinew and bone over things like “what IS magic”, what defines a quest, to what extent an objective is “world-saving”, and how to properly pronounce “Tolkien”.

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Gremlins are Totally Misunderstood

One of the greatest Christmas classics of all-time is the 1980s hit horror film, Gremlins. Thanks to my impressionable young age at the time of its release and my mother’s repeat viewings of it every December, I grew up terrified of the song “Do You Hear What I Hear” and always thought there was something grisly about icing gingerbread men. That blender-microwave one-two shot really haunted me. In spite of the childhood trauma, it’s actually a fantastic movie chockful of yuletide spirit.

I was re-watching it again the other night and realized there is one major stand-out problem with this movie, though: The gremlins are not the bad guys. Not really. They’ve been totally misunderstood, marginalized, and murdered. Really, this film is little more than Christmas-themed anti-gremlin propaganda.

Don’t believe me? Read on as I lay out my case.

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A Guide to Strange Historical Diseases and Mortality

OR, “Ye Olde Deaths in Times of Yore”

Genealogy research has forced me to brush up on my medical ailments of centuries past to understand what horrible diseases befell my poor ancestors. Physicians of yore had all sorts of colorful ideas and terminology relating to the body, and its functions and diseases. It’s been an unfortunate journey reading about pustules, limb loss, and rashes. Leeches. Bad milk. Dental abcesses that cause suffocation. Fellow amateur historians out there can appreciate the horror. It’s a damn disgusting treat that makes me really happy to be alive in modern times.

For those of you who haven’t enjoyed such research yet, you may have been taken aback by an image recently circulating around social media (Twitter, Reddit, Facebook, the usuals), listing the causes of death in London for the year 1632. It’s pretty perplexing, isn’t it? Quinsie? Planet? Fistula? I mean, CANCER AND WOLF?

And I won’t even begin to understand “Kil’d by Several Accidents”.

If you think you have the stomach for it, I invite you to read on for an explantion of strange historical diseases and casualties. I present to you, casual reader, as well as other genealogical researchers, Ye Olde Deaths in Times of Yore:

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Tales From My Mother’s Dementia

ALTERNATE TITLE: “Your Mother’s Just Tired”

My mom has dementia. We live an ocean apart, but thanks to video chat it feels like I am sitting in her bedroom up close, witnessing my mother’s mental decline. She knows who people are, but she loses all concept of dates or times, hatches zany schemes, has forgotten basic concepts of operating technology, and cannot recall previous conversations. She’s also somewhat murderous toward my father (her caretaker) and is unwittingly cruel to animals–which is something I never imagined from her. Ever.

Worst of all, I don’t know what is causing it. My poor paraplegic mother, wheelchair-bound for many years and addicted to massive quantities of prescription meds (including narcotic painkillers) could have nearly anything wrong with her brain at this point. Maybe it’s Alzheimer’s. Maybe it’s the meds. Maybe she is merely clinically insane. It could be some combination (there is a multi-generational history of senile mothers stabbing their daughters in her family).

Continue reading “Tales From My Mother’s Dementia”

The West Cork Murder Case: Sophie Toscan du Plantier and Suspect Ian Bailey

My true crime obsession: The murder of Sophie Toscan du Plantier in a remote area of West Cork, Ireland, 1996. A French woman–wealthy, attractive, and free-spirited, spending a Christmas holiday alone in her remote Irish cottage–turned up dead. No, not dead. Savagely murdered. Bludgeoned with multiple rocks and a cinder block, her nightclothes snagged in brambles and her body laid open to the sky on the edge of a dirt driving path.

It all happened in an area where murders are incredibly rare and the rage exacted on her body was so savage that it only deepened the perplexity of the act. Still, it gets stranger. Sophie was reclusive and very few locals knew anything about her. Locally, no one knew what she did with her days or what her visit was meant to look like. No one understood why she was scared–and according to the few accounts of her last days, she was terrified. Outside of the main players, there were likely no witnesses. No physical evidence points to the culprit. Almost nothing about the case makes sense. This murder is spectacularly strange and has had me enthralled with it for years now.

Continue reading “The West Cork Murder Case: Sophie Toscan du Plantier and Suspect Ian Bailey”

I Finished My Stardew Valley 1.5 Farm

Back in ye olde days of the most recent Christmas season, I randomly had a calling, as if from some powerful ethereal force, to launch Stardew Valley and start a new farm, finally playing the game through ’til the end. Then praise be to the gods of mistletoe and cookies, I discovered that by sheer chance, I was loading the game mere hours after ConcernedApe announced the release of Stardew Valley 1.5 update. There was a new farm layout, new characters, animals, secrets, puzzles. It was glorious, and my giddy, evil smile glinted in the blinking colorful tree lights.

So it began. My lockdown playthrough of one of Stardew Valley 1.5. Less than three months later, my quest is complete and now I am proud to share with you the fruits of my labor. So much toil, so much starfruit wine, so many crystalariums, and so many neighbors dripping with rabbits’ feet.

Ladies and gentleman, I am proud to introduce you to a farmer name Clyde and her little corner of the world:
(Spoilers Ahead!)

Welcome to Tipsy Chicken Farm

Our hostess is Farmer Clyde, who is surprisingly happily married to Shane. I know, who knew?

Continue reading “I Finished My Stardew Valley 1.5 Farm”

The Lazy Person’s Guide to Early Roman Emperors

Sometimes I cannot explain my fixations with history, nor my devilish need to mock it. I could argue that certain topics, such as Roman Emperors, are discussed with such reverence and so little endeavor at levity, that there is a vacuum of historical entertainment. I am painting these men as mortals, defying the dusty, pretentious misconceptions of their demigod natures. Or I could just confess that my trivia and quizzing skills were a little less than on-point in this arena. (Get it?) And the only way I could bring myself to actually learn about the Emperors was to thoroughly laugh at them. I’ll leave it to you.

“Don’t ‘asp’ me what happened to Cleopatra [snicker, snicker]”

Continue reading “The Lazy Person’s Guide to Early Roman Emperors”

Strange Things You Never Noticed About Christmas Movies

I wait all year long to watch classic Christmas movies. And I mean classic. None of that bullshit inside Hallmark jargon. Sorry, I was way forcing that quote and I didn’t pull it off very well. I just can’t help myself, I am THAT in love with real classic Christmas movies that teach us morals about love and togetherness and what really matters. Over and over I watch them to feel the spirit of glorious trees with dazzling lights and turkey and puzzles and wine and family and shopping and wrappings. Something funny happens, though, when you’ve watched them over and over and over, year after year for decades. Weird patterns emerge. And you notice things. Little things that a casual viewer would never catch. Have you noticed any of these before?

Christmas Movies Do Not Include Christmas Day

Call it a Yuletide frenzy, perhaps, but somehow our favorite Christmas movies climax early–er, that is to say that many do not actually include Christmas Day. I suppose the idea is that by the time we get to the proper holiday, we’ve sorted all of our conflicts and obstacles. We’ve confessed our love. I guess. Still, it’s a little weird when you think on it. Still, a few films do treasure the proper holiday. After all, none of the takes on A Christmas Carol would work without Scrooge on Christmas morning. A Christmas Story and Home Alone also buck the trend.

  • National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
  • It’s a Wonderful Life
  • Love Actually
  • Die Hard
  • Scrooged
  • The Ref
  • Bad Santa
  • Elf
Continue reading “Strange Things You Never Noticed About Christmas Movies”

the Novel “Rebecca” should never again be adapted into a movie

Sweeping landscapes, luscious costumes, and Armie Hammer’s chiseled jaw were so enchanting in the most recent film adaptation of the novel, Rebecca, that I frothed at the chance to see the plot unfold. The Netflix production value alone promised decadent wickedness and a gorgeously ghoulish tale that could sweep anyone on to the lawns of the seaside manor.

Unfortunately, my visual enthrallment didn’t anticipate the inevitable flaw in scribing such a modern adaptation. The writers fell into the trap of imagining the novel as something other than it was. Rebecca was never a sweeping romance that was twisted by anger and spite and ghosts. Yet, the 2020 adaptation did its best to shape and cram Rebecca’s characters into a mold, pounding and twisting them until they fit into a haunted template that might appeal to test groups. Naturally, the problem is that Daphne Du Maurier’s tale can’t sustain such brutality without losing and utterly transforming itself. Oddly enough, much like the heroine of the tale.
(Spoilers Ahead)

Continue reading “the Novel “Rebecca” should never again be adapted into a movie”

…And Lo, the Haunted coconut becomes Katie using Words!

Hey readers, friends, and peekaboo Sallies, I have been inspired to do something incredibly stupid and #REBRAND!

The Haunted Coconut was a writing pseudonym I enjoyed using for a handful of years, but I was never smitten with it. Actually, at first it was just a placeholder name that stuck, and allowed me the anonymity to write without being too personally connected to the site. Of course, I was a big fat dummy for ever trying to disassociate myself from my writing and my name and life, which are inherently a tangled, gnarled cluster of vines.

So it’s time for a change that will make my Google algorithm results cry. This new site title is honest and personal–and was inspired by my husband bumbling about on a Thursday night yelling in a triumphant tone, “Katie USING WORDS!”. I laughed and said that’s what my website should be called. And then we both froze and looked at each other, mouths agape.

While the look and name have changed, the content will continue to meander in the same twisted fashion it always has. I thank you all for your patience and support during this morph.

If You Could Invite People From History to a Dinner Party, Who Would You Choose?

Welcome, friends to a fantastical dinner party of your own making and imagination. Yes, it’s time to play a grand game and intellectual exercise, somewhat akin to the lunchroom game of Stranded On a Deserted Island. However, instead of imagining implements of survival, escape, and spiritual fulfillment, you are being asked to host a grand dinner party with the most intriguing, exciting, or entertaining guests you can cook up. Here is the beautiful scenario: You are to host a dinner party for which you may invite up to FIVE guests–living or dead. Deep in a distant wood is a secluded cabin with comfortable furnishings and a crackling fire that is waiting for your party. The linens and place settings are in place. The food’s piping hot and ready, dessert is chilled, coffee and tea are brewing, and the bar and wine cellars are endlessly stocked. All that’s needed from you is the guest list! Whom shall you invite?

Continue reading “If You Could Invite People From History to a Dinner Party, Who Would You Choose?”

The Classes of the Indoor Housecat: Felinus Fluffibutticus

I’ve finally cracked it, people–the previously inscrutable code of cat archetypes. Cat-kind has long been deliberately enigmatic. Such a nature is what makes them endearing, yet dangerous companions/overlords. I have spent forty years (yes, I confess this to you in the name of science) observing cats in their natural elements: Blankets, laps, sunny windows, keyboards, food bowls, etc. It has, indeed, taken me this long and the observation of several subjects of varying breed and background in order for me to crack the code and distinguish cat personalities so that one might classify them according to archetypes.

My findings are astounding. First, one must acknowledge that it is universally known and accepted that all cats are females (just as all dogs are males). Genitalia and reproduction do not alter this fact. It is known. Second, I share with you now the discovery that all indoor housecats fall into at least one of five basic archetypes. I have described them below for your better understanding.

1. Mother Hens

The Mother Hen cat is the caretaker of other cats, but not necessarily people. If a cat is sick or dirty, or just young, the Mother Hen will bathe her head and other bits to remove offending odors. The Mother Hen is also likely to cuddle kittens or sick cats. She does not shy from her job, though it can be a burden and very tiresome. A Mother Hen need not actually be a mother for this personality to develop, though such traits will commonly not emerge until the onset of adulthood. Mothering cats may or may not develop a favorable relationship with humans, and do not necessarily need to care for the furless ones.

2. Hidden Cats of Scaredy Pantsington

We have all met one of The Hidden at some point or another, and hopefully we do not have them in our own homes, for while some cats have a greater disposition toward being scaredy pants, such a personality trait is often the result of mistreatment. Sorry, this isn’t to say that a scaredy cat has been abused. Sometimes an environment can be entirely wrong for a cat–perhaps too much noise, an overly tidy spouse, children who are handsy, or humans who try to apply rigid rules to felines. Cats, clearly, are not meant to be managed or taught lessons. When a cat feels consistently threatened or harassed, then even a pre-determined archetype will be eschewed for the Hidden Cats of Scaredy Pantsington model. That said, some cats are wired to embrace the ways of the Hidden Cats more readily than others. And even a very secure and happy cat may have been transformed into one of The Hidden during a previous living circumstance. Worry not, with love and affection, some quiet, and lots of treats, your scaredy cat may develop other facets to her personality.

3. The Generalissimo

This is your basic dictator model. A cat who has amazing physical prowess, aggressive confidence, and the ability to work through puzzles is a member of the Generalissimo brigade. Such a cat may express affection for humans or other cats, but is still likely to pounce, scratch, bite, or chase. Most little Generalissimos exhibit higher levels of intelligence and express behavior similar to the raptors from Jurassic Park. You may also have the uncanny sense that your cat is marshalling the other cats and pets to serve their whims–stealing food, framing the dog for crimes, convincing the guinea pig to weet-weet at feeding time (oh, it’s happened). This basic cognitive superiority is important to not only their confidence, but also to compensate for physical decline later in life. One she has trained her army of minions, she need not tackle them in order to make her will known–a withering glare will suffice.

4. Clingy Cuddle Blobs

This is a fairly uncommon feline class, but exists primarily in those cats who reject the other precepts of cat behavior. The Clingy Cuddle Blobs seek to smother humans with affection and cover them with a sphere of heat, and that is all. Such cats are not interested in caring for other animals, nor are they scared, nor are they inclined to hatch a plot. Playing is overrated, as is walking. Sunshine is a nice diversion when humans won’t settle down, but a good human lap is the best thing for a Cuddle Blob. They are especially fond of strangers who don’t like cats or are allergic to them. A Cuddle Blob can sense this immediately, and once convinced that said visitor will not hassle them, they will immediately move to lay across the person’s lap or arm or head. Due to such a deliberately inactive lifestyle, this cat will often be fairly rotund, or “fluffy”.

5. The Weird

The Weird is a very special class of cats and is the least understood of all–by design. The Weird exhibit behaviors that defy logic, reason, and sometimes even physics. While they may actually hatch plans and be extraordinarily intelligent, the focus of any such plans can never be worked out by our simple human brains. For example, a weird may encircle a bed with socks every night for exactly one month, and then never again. A Weird may seem to be in multiple rooms at once. A Weird may form seemingly unhealthy attachments to people, animals, things, or shadows. I’ve suspected at least one of my Weirds of time travel. Now, a Weird need not be hyper-intelligent, though it is more typical. This class can be very affectionate, and very rarely aggressive. Typically, this is a passive, peaceful class that is more interested in the invisible things in the corner than causing trouble. Unfortunately, people sometimes attempt to train or trick their cats into appearing Weird for the sake of video phones or photos. The ineffable qualities of The Weird cannot be taught. It is an archetype that is established at birth and may never be undone.

Have you yet discovered your kitty’s class? At least one of these should apply to every cat, though I will note that there may certainly be overlap between classes. As noted in our diagram above, there are specialized sub-classes to which any cat may be naturally inclined. This I submit to you for your study and appreciation. Please refer to this chart upon welcoming another cat into your home so that you may respect their machinations and desires. All hail our furry overlords.

The West Wing Drinking Game!

I can’t be the only one who is charging through (yet another) re-watch of The West Wing right now. The TV show’s peppy little theme song and rosy outlook on the political landscape and condition of America is just what we need to deny reality with zeal and vigor. And since we’re all imbibing as another measure to deny reality, why don’t we combine the two sports into one jolly activity? Therefore, I give you THE WEST WING DRINKING GAME!

Remember to drink responsibly, and never ever drive after drinking. If some episodes are just too out-of-hand, don’t forget to sub in some water, or you’ll end up like Josh, wearing fisherman’s waders and showing up at Donna’s apartment at midnight to swear at her roommate’s cats. With any luck, we’ll all be singing The Jackal within just a couple episodes. Cheers!

Now, take one sip each time…

Percy Shelley and His Insane Love Triangle, Most Scandalous

Percy Shelley. You know him as one of those poetry dudes.

He was a privileged young English poet in the 1810s, who had a progressive, yet romantic voice that attempted to influence religion and politics. But, his very brief life was full of secrets and intrigue that eclipse anything he put down on paper. Percy Shelley was at the heart of one of the most mysterious, scandalous love triangles recorded in history. Many women. Two wives. Pregnancies. Deceit. Money. Extortion. Mysterious Death.

What you are about to read is the account that you won’t find in any classroom textbook. This is the story of Percy Shelley and his insane love triangle, most scandalous.

Continue reading “Percy Shelley and His Insane Love Triangle, Most Scandalous”

LOST: The Island, Smoke Monster, and Everything Else Explained

Most series finales are awful. Seinfeld was absurd. The Sopranos didn’t have an ending, kinda. And [sigh] Game of Thrones didn–argh!, Bran did not have the best story, and that is NOT why you make someone a king, especially because he was the villain the whole time and they’re all going to suffer and die now and it’s the WORST! Just the WORST!

I’m okay, really. But we need to address LOST.

The airplane crash survival series finale lives in infamy for its alleged lack of payoff. But let’s be real–we were given many of the answers and the closure we craved, but it was only rewarded to those who were loyal, attentive viewers. Most people couldn’t devote this much time or brain space to a long-running show that was plagued by regular excruciating hiatuses and writers with short attention spans. As a consequence, many viewers skimmed the seasons, or skipped some altogether. And as the mythology and paradoxes got too cute by half, many threw their arms in the air and decried that none of it made sense. By the finale, the show’s legacy had a thick tarnish over it as a series that was full of crap and never got where it was going. (Kinda like the Oceanic passengers, amiright? Zzzzzing!)

I submit to you that this confusion and tarnish can be cleared away with just a bit of explanation. For the Jack-the-Doubters out there, I’ve decided to don my dot-connector hat and go through the series in proper chronological order. I want to lay it all out so that we can demystify the writing and pick at the show’s carcass for all of the answer morsels we crave. Are you ready to begin this journey?

Continue reading “LOST: The Island, Smoke Monster, and Everything Else Explained”

Gilmore Girls: 100+ Things That Make No Sense

We all love our Gilmore Girls. Even Rory. A trip to Stars Hollow is magically full of vegetable-shilling troubadours, Bjork snow women, Kirk’s doggy daycare, and Taylor’s sexy beard. There’s nothing like it. But let’s be honest, as enchanting as the show may be, it is completely riddled with problems and things that make no damn sense. Some of them are flubs and bloopers, while many other issues defy the realms of logic, mathematics, and decency.

That Dragonfly magazine article, money issues, the Donna Reed dress, Lane’s father, Jason squatting and pooping in the corner of the Dragonfly’s dining room, and Trix’s disappearing fella. How many have you noticed?

Continue reading “Gilmore Girls: 100+ Things That Make No Sense”

How to Play Darts (for Beginners)

The ol’ pub game of darts is the sophisticated gentleman’s game of precision and gentility refined over many generations…no, just kidding. It’s just simply the best game you can possibly play over a pint. Or gin. Or rum. Or pretty much anything. It’s fun, global, and it gives you something to do when the booze makes you twitchy.

I love darts.

Or, I think I love darts. I mean, I used to play on a velcro dart board that I was awarded for selling enough salami and chocolates at my third grade school fundraiser. And that was fun. Until the little velcro dots fell off the plastic dabbers, which never really stuck to the board anyway. But I felt cool thinking I was playing something resembling darts.

The real thing has been too intimidating. People who play real darts play it FOR REAL. And they don’t tend to like when amateurs step on their turf. It’s like that guy in the bowling alley in 2010 who screamed in my face and tried to have me forcibly evicted because I was there with my preschooler mid-afternoon and took four photos of her rolling the ball with her teddy bear. I was distracting to his very professional practice game. When he got in my face, I looked him in the eyes and told him to go fuck himself. I swear he really considered hitting me in the face.

That’s the type of shit that has scared me away from learning real darts. My teddy bear, too.

Continue reading “How to Play Darts (for Beginners)”

The American Voter’s Big Damn Choice: Principles vs. Power

Confess it now, I am registered as a Democratic voter in America. And if you’ve ever loved a sports team that consistently chokes in the playoffs, then you understand what it is like to support a party that struggles with its conscience so acutely. For every apology and resignation, for every political bean that wobbles on policies to meet poll-tested expectations, the party grows more and more flaccid.

However, disappointing as Democratic candidates and officials may be, they are not solely to blame for the party’s crushing losses. The voters are perhaps the most complicit. Yes, you. You with the protest votes. You with the disgruntled Facebook posts.

You, the voter, are the worst.

And this is probably because you have not yet recognized the empirical truth that there is a binary choice in American elections that never changes–no matter the politicians, the party, the year, or the economy:

You can vote for power, or you can let your principles vote against power.

I shouted this during Hillary Clinton’s run for the White House. Yeah, she never figured out an inspiring message and she sounded like a robot most of the time. Sure, she wanted it so badly that there was froth caked on the edges of her mouth for the better part of a year. That was gross.

But I sat back in horror, absolutely agog that so many of my friends and cohorts were willing to give away their power in favor of their principles by staying home on Election Day. Or voting for Jill Stein. Or writing in Bernie or Tyrion Lannister.

They bemoaned, Bernie “should have” won (except that he lost). Hillary isn’t progressive enough. The DNC played foul with the primaries. Hillary has dirt under her fingernails (as if most voters could actually describe the dirt in detail). She hasn’t spoken out on [fill in the blank] issue recently enough. She’s going to win anyway…

Yes, you and your principles did the nation dirty.

Your heart couldn’t help it. You were swayed by some kind of notion of honor or rebellion or fantasy. And so you commandeered a luxury you had no right to–the luxury of voting for your principles with no regard for the cold, hard reality of power. And, really, how dare you?

It’s good to have principles. They are fine and good for journals and diaries. They are moving at dinner parties.  It is a worthy fight to assert your heart’s courageous burnings when encouraging candidates to run, shoring up votes, raising funds, or (more importantly) advocating legislative electoral changes between election cycles.

But once the ballots are finalized, the time for principles has come and gone. If you want power, you choose between the Democratic nominee or the Republican. One of those two will win. One of those two will nominate judges. One of those two will impact climate change. One of those two will alter your health care choices.

If your principles ache in denial of reality, then I feel for you. Nothing about politics is fair. Damn straight, there should be a viable multi-party system. Damn straight, Iowa shouldn’t get to caucus first. Damn straight, the Electoral College shouldn’t supersede the popular vote. Damn straight, you liked that other primary candidate better.

It isn’t fair! It isn’t fair! It isn’t fair!

I know.

But now that we’ve gotten that whingeing out of our systems, we can touch back down to earth and accept the bleak truth that if you want power, you have to vote in the election that is real. Not the one in your fantasies.

Let’s put it this way: Suppose you sit down at a table with a Monopoly game laid out and begin shouting “But I want to play Scrabble!” You kick your feet and line up letter tiles along the edge of the board. The problem, of course, is that you’re going to lose. Because the game is Monopoly.

Play the game. Win the game. Take the power, as imperfect and compromised as it may be.

I truly hope that your principles may always intersect with the sober choice of handing someone power. But if they don’t, suck it up, stash your letter tiles away for another night, and start mortgaging your red properties before Aunt Griselda gets her sweaty racist mitts on both Park Place and Boardwalk.

Democrats, don’t you let me down again. Your principles aren’t high-minded and sexy when health, safety, and equality are on the line. Play the game in front of you. Play it for power.

 

Stars Hollow Unhinged: The Dark Side of the Gilmore Girls

We all love Gilmore Girls, right? It’s sweet, peppy, and oh so innocent. Remember Rory’s first kiss? Jess knocking down a snowman? Lorelai sewing costumes for the school play? Yes, the WB/CW really had us believing that the streets of Stars Hollow were made of cotton candy and the Gilmore Girls lived in a house of Pop-Tarts and Brillo Pads.   I regret to tell you, it just isn’t so. Once you removed the WB/CW network filter and peel away the peppy “la-la-la-la” music, there is a seedy underbelly to Stars Hollow, particularly at the Gilmore House. It’s so twisted that not even a Rory Curtain could hide it. So come with me as I decipher all of the clues and break down the truth behind the cold, dark Stars Hollow as it really was.

In the Beginning, Lorelai Ran From Hartford

Fans, let us journey back in time to the very beginning. The year was 1985. 17 year-old Lorelai Gilmore took her baby daughter and made a hasty retreat from the safety, shelter, and sustenance of her parents’ house out on to the mean streets of Hartford and beyond.

Continue reading “Stars Hollow Unhinged: The Dark Side of the Gilmore Girls”

Bah, Humbug! Ebenezer Scrooge, American Politics, and the Republican Party

Or “The Political Dichotomy of Ebenezer Scrooge as Depicted by SJW Charles Dickens”

Welcome to the holly jolly time of year when we all smile a little brighter, we all drink a little more eggnog, and we all (oh so briefly) smile at the sight of snowflakes. And while we drape our tinsel and wrap our gifts, most of us will watch some form of the Charles Dickens masterpiece, A Christmas Carol. My personal favorite being the Married With Children television episode entitled “It’s a Bundyful Life” which featured guest-star Sam Kinison as a screaming angel. Scrooged, starring Bill Murray, is also at the top of the list.

What you may not have ever considered is that Dickens offers us a curiously apt allegory for modern American political views. Actually, they were designed quite deliberately as a moral tale for the mid-19th century, when Dickens experienced and witnessed terrible poverty and suffering. It is no secret that he was a social activist who advocated education reform, labor changes, and support for women and children.

Continue reading “Bah, Humbug! Ebenezer Scrooge, American Politics, and the Republican Party”

Star Trek: Voyager–Being Katie O’Clare

I have a very special story for you about Star Trek: Voyager and how my life inadvertently imitated a holodeck fantasy. Gather ’round.

The tale of my holodeck-style adventure starts not terribly long ago when I moved my little family to Ireland. One night shortly after our move, my husband and I lay in bed, me dozing off after a long day of unpacking boxes. He, intent on finding a new show to watch on Netflix, was irritatingly scrolling through app menus so that they flickered through the dark room and pierced my closed eyelids. Sighing, I cracked my eyes open just enough to see the screen. One of the title cards flashed past my vision and prompted me to mutter through my own drool, “What is Red doing on Star Trek?”.

Wait, was I half-asleep? “Was that really RED? That was RED! Red from Orange is the New Black! On STAR TREK!” He scrolled back to a cast photo of Star Trek: Voyager. My husband had been keeping a terrible secret from me! Red, the grumpy prison chef has always been my absolute favorite character from Orange, and he never let on that she was a Star Trek Captain?! Startled by my recognition, he confessed to having never connected Kate Mulgrew’s two brilliant roles before–a notion that still horrifies me, and brings great shame upon our family.

Star Trek Voyager cast photo
Continue reading “Star Trek: Voyager–Being Katie O’Clare”

Brexit and the Irish Border: Let’s Explain It!

Shout out to my friends and family in America who think that Ireland is one nation–and chockful of “terrorists”. Or is part of the UK. Irish history has never been an American educational priority. That is understandable. It’s a big world. Lots of conflict. But in this case, let’s take a look and see what the modern fuss is all about.

One Island, Two Countries

Ireland is a single island, but it is comprised of two separate countries: The Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland.

Continue reading “Brexit and the Irish Border: Let’s Explain It!”

West Wing: The Complete Adventures of Goldfish Gail and Her Fishbowl

Ever wondered about the props in Goldfish Gail’s fishbowl? I have answers.

Fans of The West Wing know a little secret: C.J. Cregg’s pet goldfish, Gail, often has her bowl decorated with props that wink at episode themes. Panda bears, cash, flags, cabbages, flamingos, a love bed, a space shuttle, a telephone, and a fire engine. They are planted just for our delight (and hopefully Gail’s as well). The trick is to try and spot them. And this friends, became my obsession recently.

Below, for the first time, is a complete list of all of Goldfish Gail’s adventures alongside C.J., Danny, and the rest of the West Wing gang. Let’s get swimmin’!

And, hey, if you think you can identify one of the mystery props, please do comment. If you can convince me, I will happily give you full credit for the spot!


Season 1

Gail 1.9

Season 1, Episode 9
  • Prop: Nothing. Welcome, Gail!
  • Gravel: None? Oh, com’on, Danny.
  • Nod to Plot: It’s a new fish! (And Danny loves C.J.)

Continue reading “West Wing: The Complete Adventures of Goldfish Gail and Her Fishbowl”

The West Wing: Inside Goldfish Gail’s Fishbowl – Season 7

Gail the Goldfish, friend and companion to C.J. Cregg and the rest of the gang at The West Wing, is back for an exciting and FINAL seventh season! This is sad and exciting. It’s sexciting. Wait, no. Sorry, Gail. I didn’t mean it like that.

Truly, though, Gail experiences the frost of terrifying allegations against her mama, deep loss, and the anticipation of moving. It’s a traumatic season for her, but she handles it like a champ. Let’s do this one last time! Here are Gail’s appearances in Season 7.

Continue reading “The West Wing: Inside Goldfish Gail’s Fishbowl – Season 7”

The West Wing: Inside Goldfish Gail’s Fishbowl – Season 6

Gail the Goldfish, friend and companion to C.J. Cregg and the rest of the gang at The West Wing, is back for an exciting sixth season. Gail moves offices, hosts a visitor, gets snubbed for an invitation to an ice cream party, and ponders classic literature. She also explores a little nihilism. That is one deep fish.

Here it is, a list of Gail sightings from season 6.

If you think that you can identify one of the mystery props, please do comment and if you can convince me, I will happily give you full credit for the spot!


NoGail

Season 6, Episode 1

No Gail. She’s as appalled as we all are about the beginning of season 6. Since it looks like the gang is heading to Camp David, I fear we might be missing Gail for quite some time.

Continue reading “The West Wing: Inside Goldfish Gail’s Fishbowl – Season 6”

Playhouse From Hell

Remember when Craig’s List was a legit thing?

There was a time not so long ago in a galaxy not so far away that Craig’s List was a legit and kinda safe place to find bargains in your community. It was, like, 2008. I remember it well. See, I had a toddler back then, so I was broke and jonesing for the hot new toy that every mom had to have or they were bad. BAAAAD. It was the good old days of driving 20 miles to pick up someone’s junk that they valued at just five bucks under retail, but then you half-load the shit in your car and are like “Naw, I have a ten. You want me to take your garbage or no? Sucker!”

Back in 2008 I was scoping out some giant plastic playhouses for my toddling daughter to hide in whenever mommy decided to sit down and eat a whole cake in one sitting like a snake unhinging its jaw. Because it was Craig’s List, most of the playhouse offerings were pretty ridiculous – tables are missing, phone receivers are missing, plastic faucets have been broken off, and water trapped in the walls was growing new cultures of black mold in at least half of the houses I scoped.

But that’s not the worst of it. Oh no. There was one listing that made me wet my pants a little when I read it, and lives in infamy to this day. This was an honest-to-Elvis Craig’s List listing in SE Michigan, word for word:

Continue reading “Playhouse From Hell”

How to Complain Like a Pro

As a consumer, student, employee, and citizen, we all get a little screwed sometimes.

An important measure of any institution–be it a business, school, or whatever–is how they try to rectify a mishap or misdeed. In spite of that truism, the cold reality is that your reaction to getting screwed is the critical catalyst that determines how your complaint will be heard and processed. It is up to you.

Complain the wrong way, and you can look like a fool who gets nothing but high blood pressure and a wasted afternoon. I once complained the wrong way (let’s just say my temper got the best of me and I hulked out over a voicemail to a doctor’s office), and got a lovely letter inviting me to never come back to their office ever again. As if I was going to anyway. Shitkickers.

But if you play the complaint game the right way, not only do you stand to receive satisfaction over your complaint, but you can legitimately gauge the integrity of the institution against which you’re railing. Take an ugly situation and turn it into your moment of haughty, glorious victory.

This is a brief masterclass on the art of complaining. Read and follow the instructions below to learn how to badass your way into getting satisfaction from a complaint.

#1. Ask Yourself If You Have a Legitimate, Reasonable Complaint

Before you even turn to the keyboard or phone, you need to slow your roll and examine your situation thoughtfully. Are you actually in the right? Is your gripe reasonable given the circumstances? And is it worth your precious time and energy to get the complaint train chugging down the tracks?

Continue reading “How to Complain Like a Pro”

Chardee MacDennis Rules: A Playable Version of the Game

Brought to you by It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia…and Boss Hog.

UPDATE, September, 2021 In honor of the glorious ongoing pandemic, I have uploaded new and improved Rules and Cards. Collect them all!

If you’re reading this, you probably are familiar with the notorious cure for boredom that was conceived by the assholes from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

That’s right, it’s Chardee MacDennis: The Game of Games!

Continue reading “Chardee MacDennis Rules: A Playable Version of the Game”

The West Wing: Inside Goldfish Gail’s Fishbowl – Season 5

Gail the Goldfish, friend and companion to C.J. Cregg and the rest of the gang at The West Wing, has a splashy season 5. Gail plays Monopoly (to help Donna, of course), goes overboard for cabbages, and rightfully panics over C.J.’s new fishing hobby. It’s a rough season for the whole gang, since we start with Zoey missing and end with Donna being blowed up. So it’s anything but calm waters for our favorite little goldfish.

Here it is, a list of Gail sightings from season 5.

If you think that you can identify one of the mystery props, please do comment and if you can convince me, I will happily give you full credit for the spot!


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Season 5, Episode 1

  • Prop: Maybe…probably…a little elephant figure
  • Gravel: Blue
  • Nod to Plot: GOP President Walken is in charge and Gail might just be showing a nod of respect to the new Commander-in-Chief.
Continue reading “The West Wing: Inside Goldfish Gail’s Fishbowl – Season 5”

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