Pete and Ellen's Big Fat Greekquinox

 Yesterday Pete and Ellen once again hosted a spectacular multi-course meal, this time themed after Greece, where they spent their late honeymoon earlier this year. The choice may have been on-the-nose for the couple, but speaking only for myself, the menu ranks among my favourites. Check out the Pete-designed menu above and the photos below to see if you agree. 

We began with savoury vegetarian spanakopita--light, flaky, golden brown pastry stuffed with spinach, cheeses, and spices, topped with Pete's homemade tzatziki sauce. (Everything was home-made; forgive the redundant adjective.) Actually, we topped pretty much everything on the menu with tzatziki. "Keep eating this stuff, I have two more litres in the fridge!" Pete entreated us. We were happy to oblige. 

Lemonade with mint leaves and a lemon slice--incredibly tasty, tangy, and refreshing. Even the coasters and napkins were inspired by Grecian art. 

I attempted to look Greek by borrowing a gold necklace from Sylvia and unbuttoning my shirt to expose my hairy chest. Rather risqué for me, but I wanted to support the theme. Sylvia pulled it off more easily, having a wider range of choices. 

The strips of chicken souvlaki and the tangy Greek rice were superb--rich in flavour, perfectly textured, a delight for the palate. 

Jeff, Steve, Audrey, Pete, Ellen, and Mike enjoying the first course. 

Pete's apron was on point. 

A Greek salad worthy of the gods with onion, feta, tomatoes, and a dressing I assume was oil and vinegar. 

Greek potatoes cooked and seasoned to perfection. 

Slow roasted lamb with au jus. I eat lamb very unfrequently, but I'm grateful Pete served this up--so moist, so juicy. 

While attempting to get a shot of Pete framed between the black cupboards, he leaned left just as Stephen was taking a photo of the food. I call this the EyePhone effect. 

The shot I intended to take. 

Galaktabourekos, a honey-sweet pastry custard named for the Milky Way--truly a dessert from and for the stars. 

And here's a lovely shot (courtesy of Steve) of this year's hosts and guests. Thank you all so much again for yet another unforgettable evening of feasting and fellowship! 

Lords Have Mercy

It occurs to me that in a Dungeons & Dragons adventure that follows the story of a lawful good cleric, the dungeon master might call said tale "The Campaign to Be a Saint." 

Don't Fib in Church

Bell,
Book,
Candle:
Accursing 
Officially,
Excommunication assured. 

Copse and Robbers

 

Pop Culture

 I always thought these were "knee-highs." I blame Radar. 

Three 7TV Trees

Final Fauna-tsy. 
 

Some Things to Consider

John Carpenter's The Thing (1982) is one of my favourite films, and one of a select few movies I like to call "perfect." By that I mean I can find no flaws in performance, editing, sound, story, or any of the other qualities that create a masterpiece. 

The Thing needs no sequel. Therefore, I have concocted a list of possible titles for said unnecessary sequel: 

Things 2 Come
That Thing Is You 2
Some Enchanted Eve Thing
Kill the Right Thing
2 Things I H8 About U
Needless Things
People, Places, and Things

The Stars Are Women

The kitchen is all rounded corners and pastel colours, cozy and functional, standing room only. Aldebaran plays host; like all the other stars here, she wears a form-fitting evening gown that glows the wearer's signature colour; in Aldebaran's case, red. She's chatting with  Antares and Capella when the front door chimes; in walk Vega and Pollux. 

"You look radiant," Aldebaran says, embracing both stars in a searing hug. 

"Technically, we're all radiant," Pollux quips, and all the ladies laugh. 

The party spills into the dining room. Rigel and Canopus are dancing a slow waltz while others chat about family groupings of stars, extolling the virtues of the common binary and trinary units while bemoaning the fates of the poor singular stars. Blonde Sol fumes with arms crossed, tired of the ancient condescension. Her gaze smoulders. 

But all their gazes smoulder. Petite, spicy redhead Wolf 359 glances sidelong at Sol, extends a hand, gently drags her solitary companion to the balcony. They look out into the infinite night, the other guests still light years distant but drawing inexorably closer as the universe shrinks. 

Flames dance on their shoulders, sparks pop and rise from their torchlit hair. She doesn't say it, but Sol misses her humans, the only intelligent life that ever arose in this slowly constricting, inexorably cooling cosmos. 

"I really liked your 'billions and billions' guy," Wolf 359 offers. "He had a better grasp of things than most." 

Sol nods. 

"I guess it's better that they were around for a while rather than not at all," she says. 

"Maybe the next time around will be more interesting," Wolf 359 says. 

"We'll never know," Sol says. 

They watch the final starset together. It takes slightly less than eternity. 

Professor Van Helsing

This fellow has certainly staked out his place in popular culture. 
 

Bing Crosby Image Search

Here's a 28mm Bing Crosby from Pulp Figures. He and Bob can now have 28mm-scale adventures on roads of the imagination. 
 

Bob Hope: Mini Golfer, or Golfer Mini?

Here he is, one of comedy's greats, Mister Bob Hope, as seen in the Road movies, just puttering around with Bing. 
 

Blood Shed

In a parallel universe, a different version of me is enjoying a successful, if notorious, career as a filmmaker. The latest hit from his Paranoid Productions studio is Blood Shed, currently garnering attention not because of its story, but its unconventional style. In Blood Shed, Paranoid-me grafts modern explicit violence effects to an otherwise mid-20th century aesthetic, creating an uncanny effect disturbing audiences all over Earth-E (for Excessive Violence). 

Blood Shed is a Technicolor western set in a lonely corner of 1870s New Mexico Territory. Horst Horseman is carving farmland from desert scrub, and against all odds, he is on the verge of success. The harvest to come is poised to be his most successful yet, and he is eager to share the bounty with other settlers and their Navajo neighbours. 

But just as his crops ripen, Horst is set upon by a roving band of banjo-strumming bandits who call themselves the Banjo Bandit Band. Horst offers the bandits fresh fruits, vegetables, and water from his hard-won well, but the bandits aren't here for charity--they're here for plunder. After first taunting Horst with a truly dreadful banjo performance, they beat him senseless and toss him into the woodshed, staining it all over with blood--hence the film's title. 

Anytime from the dawn of cinema through the 1950s would generally treat this violence tastefully, either cutting away from the action to let the audience imagine it for themselves or bloodlessly pantomiming the action. In Blood Shed, however, we see every punch, kick, and banjo-clobbering in rapturous slow motion, with every spray of ichor, goose egg, blackened eye, and broken bone captured with intense realism. 

The Banjo Bandit Band leaves Horst for dead in a slowly spreading pool of his own blood as they steal his crops and burn his humble homestead to the ground. Miraculously, the fire does not spread to the titular Blood Shed, and Horst's broken body is discovered by his horrified neighbors. 

Moved by Horst's plight, several of Horst's fellow settlers team up with sympathetic Navajo warriors to chase down the Banjo Bandit Band. As it turns out, they're easy to track, because they won't stop playing their banjos. The rest of the film details the running battle between the bandits and Horst's posse--really just an excuse to create graphically realistic arrow, bullet, and knife wounds in the context of a B-list midcentury western steeped in the production values of the time: some location shooting, canned music, generous use of rear projection, stilted dialogue, continuity errors, and acting ranging from merely terrible to workmanlike. In the end, Horst is avenged and his friends help him rebuild the farm. 

Alternate-Woods would later use the same technique to create similarly dissonant films noir (Teeth On a Midnight Sidewalk, Blood-Soaked Tide*), musicals (The Iced Capades, Xanadoom), comedy (The Three Stooges Go to the Hospital, The Three Stooges in Blunt Trauma), horror (There Is No Anesthesiologist in This Hospital, Castle of Stone Stairs, Brutal Fists of Frankenstein), science fiction (Magnificent Devastation, Attack of the Needlessly Sadistic Saucer Men), absurdism (Who Filled the Washing Machine with Dynamite?), and even the Oscar-winning drama Senseless Violence. 

Poor alternate Sylvia. 

*With product placement of the famous detergent

Lego Advent Calendar Haiku 2024 Day 21

A nutcracker sweet

Glides with Peanuts Zamboni

Vader seethes anon

 

A Miniature Team

 

A Man and His KITT KARR

Here we have Michael Knight, painted using some of Jeff's tips from the past few days (though not all, as sometimes I'll have painted figures, like this one, before Jeff generously offers updated advice). I'm happy with the clothes and very pleased with small details such as his belt buckle, jacket zipper, and eyebrows. The skin is smoother than usual, and while I couldn't quite create a convincing set of lips, you can see a hint of smirk nonetheless. 

I painted KITT some time ago, but now, at last, he has a pal and partner. 
 

A Pair of Zayces

Here are two versions of Doctor Zayce, one of the leaders of the simian faction in the Star Schlock skirmish game. No reason to be unhappy with these; the skin tones look good, the hair looks good, you can see the fine detail in the vests, and everything looks pretty clean. The exceptions might be their doomsday devices, which don't look quite as neat. 
 

A Slice of Humour

What do you call a pizza large enough to feed a rebellion? 

The pizza de la resistance. 

HAL-I-BOT

Why do I call this Star Schlock robot "HAL-I-BOT?" 

Because he seems fishy. 
 

Fearsome Ferryman

Looks like Charon dropped his lamp. Styx to be you! 
 

He is (Curiously) Yellow