Through a Lens, Darkly

I've always loved Halloween. My first Halloween - at least, the first I remember - happened in Leaf Rapids. It was an unseasonably warm October that year - "unseasonably warm" for northern Manitoba meaning that it was merely freezing, with wet snow chilling me to the bone. I only remember that wet snow and the ghost costume my mother hand-made for me sticking to my skin, soaking. I think I had fun anyway.

The next Halloween I remember happened in Leduc, grade five or six. I made my own costume this time; I was a robot. I stapled cardboard boxes together with a staple gun and covered everything in tin foil. There was a dance, and the costume was so hot that I felt faint...plus the staples were jabbing into my body. It was extremely uncomfortable.

Here's a photo of Jeff Pitts and Kevin Kelly and me, ready to head out for some Halloween event or another in 1987. I don't remember anything about what we might have done that night; without this photo, I wouldn't have been able to tell you that I did anything for Halloween in 1987 at all. It's odd that this picture was taken at Mom and Dad's place in Leduc, since I would have been living at Lister Hall at the U of A at the time, in my first year of post-secondary education.

I do remember Halloween 1990, though; a bunch of friends gathered at Earl's on the university campus and then headed over to Lister Hall for the Halloween dance. I think Ron Briscoe's defrocked priest was the best costume, although Jeff and Susan as Prince and Princess Charming were pretty awesome too. Then again, so was Tony's genie...and so was Carrie's harem girl. I'm not sure who Steven Neumann was supposed to be...I think Michael Snyder was a pirate.

The next Halloween I remember was back in 1996, when Leslie, who was my boss at the time, took me to a GLBT-friendly Halloween party. She was a vampire, I was "Ensign Woods on shore leave." (That is, I wore my old grade nine home-made gold Star Trek tunic, beach shorts and carried around a frisbee.) No pictures of that event, unfortunately, but as you might expect because of gay stereotypes, the costumes were really terrific. The people were really nice, too, especially considering I was still pretty naive about gay and lesbian culture at the time.

Sylvia's birthday falls just a few days before Halloween. I don't recall what we did for the holiday that year, but it was Sylvia's 35th birthday - the first I'd experienced as her boyfriend - and we celebrated the milestone by throwing a huge party.

By 2006 we had our own home and were carving pumpkins together.

Only a few of the intrepid folks at the Official Opposition dressed up for Halloween in 2007, but our boss Judy was one of them, in an amazing Three Stooges mask.

In 2008, Sylvia borrowed my phaser and my old Star Trek command tunic (originally made in grade nine!) to gently mock my pop culture obsessions.

I wish I had more photos to prop up my Halloween memories, but these will have to do. Until next year...happy haunting.

The Waking Dead

Members of the University of Alberta Star Trek Club celebrate Halloween 1990. Taken just outside my dorm room at 139 Kelsey Hall, U of A.

While watching AMC's The Walking Dead this Halloween night, it occurred to me that only in parodies and comedies of science fiction, fantasy or horror stories do the characters show any familiarity with the dangers they face. They possess no genre awareness.

If you or I suddenly woke up to find that vampires, werewolves, or zombies were running amok, we'd be terrified - but we wouldn't be ignorant. Decades of books, television shows, movies, comics, even stage plays have shown us how to respond. Everyone in the Western world knows that you kill werewolves with silver bullets, vampires with a stake to the heart, zombies with a bullet to the brain.

On The Walking Dead, the protagonists discover how to kill zombies only by accident. They don't even use the word "zombies;" they call the living dead "walkers." It's as if they grew up in a world without George Romero and Night of the Living Dead, or even the works of Max Brooks, author of The Zombie Survival Guide.

We see this over and over again in dramatic genre fiction. An unprecedented catastrophe occurs, and none of the main characters seem to have ever read a science fiction novel or seen a horror movie. If the heroes only had a little genre awareness, they'd be far better prepared to tackle whatever outrageous genre problems facing them. There would be no need to learn by deadly experience, to lose redshirts or other cannon fodder in the early hours of the catastrophe.*

Years ago, I mused about the possibility that writers and other creative types don't actually create anything, that they are in fact merely tapping into parallel universes with some as yet undiscovered sensory organ. Some friends of mine hated this idea, with good reason - it does, after all, destroy the idea of the human imagination - but I thought it might make a pretty good hook for a story or two...stories I haven't written yet, of course.

But during The Walking Dead's opening episode tonight, I remembered my idea and thought to myself, perhaps there's even more going on here than I originally speculated. Perhaps writers and directors and painters are somehow inoculating our world against such horrors merely by bearing witness to the awful things that happen on other Earths. Think about it: if Earth is ever faced with an alien invasion or a zombie plague or body snatchers that take over our loved ones, there will be millions of people who know how to deal with the problem from the first moment, because they've seen or read all the solutions already. In the face of that vast pool of knowledge, perhaps genre threats have declared our world, the "real" world, off-limits. If you were a vampire, would you set up shop here? You wouldn't last a week before a gang of garlic-wearing teenagers were water-bombing your crypt with holy water.

So here's to the dreamers, those who see beyond our reality into other worlds more terrifying than our own. Perhaps their dark visions have protected us from the lurking terrors that stalk the many universes, beasts and madmen that move on to other, less imaginative worlds...

*Of course the real reason protagonists lack genre awareness is because professional writers know it would be tiresome to begin each and every story with their characters talking about how "they saw this exact situation on TV!"

Dark Tableau

Our Halloween tableau for 2010.

Carving a Jack O'Lantern is so much easier with a garbage disposal. Not that it's improved my carving abilities...

"I like you, Skully. That's why I'm going to kill you last."

"Skully, remember when I said I was going to kill you last?"

"Yeah! Yeah!"

"I lied."

Sylvia has decided to dress up like a Hula girl for Halloween. She clearly misses Hawaii. So will I, when winter hits.

In This Corner...Maurice Tougas

Maurice Tougas (left) photobombs an otherwise dignified portrait of former (and hopefully future) Alberta Liberal MLA Mo Elsalhy.

Anyone interested in Alberta politics, pop culture and sports should check out In This Corner, the blog of my former MLA (for Edmonton Meadowlark) and colleague, Maurice Tougas. Maurice is an excellent writer with what used to be called "mordant" wit; even when he's writing about sports, I find myself entertained. Maurice has been posting quite regularly, so check in often.

Kung Fool Fighting, or: Tae Kwon D'oh!

A week ago tonight, I accompanied my old friend Jeff Pitts to his Tae Kwon Do dojo for Buddy Night. Jeff didn't really say what "Buddy Night" was all about, so I was a little nervous at first. Was I to be used as some kind of practice dummy for his blows? My friends shouting "500 quatloos for the video!" in email didn't do much to inspire confidence, either.

Of course I didn't really have anything to worry about. Buddy Night is simply an opportunity for friends and family members of students to experience a class for themselves. Jeff already has his blue belt/red stripe, and he's on track to get his black belt by next summer, so this gentle Buddy Night class was a bit of a breeze for him - but educational for me.

Most of the students were children, with a smattering of teenagers and thirty- and fortysomethings tossed in. We began sensibly enough with a series of stretches, then learned how to block, punch and kick properly. All very basic, but still fascinating. I always knew that Jeff was in good shape, but holding targets for his kicks and punches was a little jarring - both physically and intellectually. There's a lot of power behind Jeff's blows, and I'm very glad that he was on target.

We even had a chance to break boards, in a sense - plastic practice boards with pre-set fracture points of varying strength levels. I have to admit, there's something cathartic about yelling "keee-yaai!" and smashing a board in half with your fist.

Most impressive was the demonstration put on by a group of advanced students. These young people staged mock battles, broke real boards, even bounced off the walls, all with confidence, grace and athleticism.

Jeff needs to bring in a certain number of buddies before he can advance in level, so I'm glad that my participation allowed him to move forward. I'm also grateful for the opportunity to catch a glimpse of another way of life that's somewhat outside my experience. We can all use a little horizon-broadening from time to time.

I only regret that I didn't bring someone along to take photos. Perhaps Jeff and the dojo will allow me to take some pictures of Jeff's graduation tests.

Dear Mr. Peanut

Dear Mr. Peanut,

Having just finished a 300 g bag of Planters Mixed Nuts (60% Peanuts), I note with some consternation that not a single Brazil nut was included in the package. For days I consumed filberts, peanuts, almonds and cashews, thinking how odd it was that my fingers had yet to brush against a noble Brazil. And now, gazing into the bottom of an empty foil bag, peering at the sad remains - a few peanut skins and some crumbs - the awful truth remains: no Brazils, despite their prominent appearance on the packaging.

It's true that Brazils are the last nut mentioned on the list of ingredients, but surely that implies that at least one such nut (or arguably two, since the plural is used) will be found in the bag. Why, then, did I fail to encounter a single Brazil - or even a fraction of one?

I can only assume that each bag of Planters Mixed Nuts (60% Peanuts) is assembled mechanically, with nut chutes pouring the appropriate proportion of goobers, filberts, etc. into each bag. Was the Brazil nut hopper not loaded for this bag? Or - horrors - did the hopper remain empty for hours? Days? There could be hundreds of bags missing the essential Brazil.

Please address this grievous error, lest the competition get a legume up on you.

Yours,

Earl J. Woods
Concerned Nutty Fan

Hawaii Five Update

A few days ago, I explained why I thought the new Hawaii Five-O's title no longer fit the show. Perhaps the producers heard me, for in tonight's episode they provided a tacked-on reference to the famous "five-oh" reference.

During the denoument, the protagonists watch some of McGarrett's old football games over the internet. Apparently McGarrett was a pretty good quarterback, but one of the other characters asks "What kind of number is fifty for a quarterback?" (I have no idea why they would object to this number...some sports thing, obviously.)

"No, not fifty," McGarrett says. "Five-oh."

"Five oh?"

"Yeah, when my family moved here, we felt like outsiders and we started calling ourselves the five-ohs...like the fiftieth state...it made us feel like we had a place we belonged."

"Huh. Five-oh. I like that..."

Approving nods all around, but no reference to "five-oh" being slang for police, which is at least consistent, since as I explained in my last post on this subject, the characters inhabiting this fictional universe should have no reason to identify "five-oh" as such. You could sure see the writers struggling to come up with an alernative reason for the reference, though...

Gliese 581g

Just 20 light years away, there's a planet that might sustain life. It's called Gliese 581g, and scientists say that it orbits in the so-called "goldilocks zone," the range of distance from a star that's neither too hot nor too cold for liquid water and thus, the possibility of life.

There are a few caveats. Apparently the planet is tidally locked, with one side forever facing its star, the other eternally turned away, making one side very hot and the other very cold. But at the terminator between light and darkness, milder temperatures could allow for the evolution of extraterrestrial life.

News like this makes me so grateful to be living in this era of exploration and discovery. Just imagine what we'll learn fifty years from now, when telescopes and other observation instruments are even more powerful, when probes can fly farther, faster, and with better equipment. One of my greatest hopes is to still be around when scientists discover the first life beyond our world; whether they find microbes or intelligent beings, that knowledge will utterly change the world, and open up vast new horizons.

James Cameron

Academy-award winning director James Cameron reacts with shock and horror as deranged fan Earl J. Woods presents him with a pile of spec scripts. "What the hell is Finger Puppet Star Trek? Generous Nature? Toilet Chase? Uhhh..."

On the way to work this morning, I happened to run into James Cameron, director of some of my favourite films - The Terminator, Terminator 2, The Abyss, Aliens, etc. Seizing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I whipped out my portfolio and forced it into the director's hands as he tried to escape...

Actually, that's not what happened. Cameron is in Alberta to learn about the oil sands and to see what he can do to help First Nations peoples affected by the environmental consequences of oil sands development. The First Nations of Fort Chipewan, grateful to Official Opposition Leader David Swann for his interest and promotion of their issues, arranged for Swann to meet with Cameron this morning.

I went along to shoot some photos, and my boss Neil Mackie, knowing what a huge science fiction and film fan I am, had David introduce me to Cameron. I stammered something or other about loving his work, and the director was very gracious indeed in his response to probably the zillionth fan to say something he's heard many, many times before. "Suck them in with a little action and adventure and sell a good message," he said. That describes the Cameron canon, all right.

Personally, I don't like to bother people, especially famous people who I imagine must have to put up with a tremendous amount of nonsense from fans. But I have to admit that I'm grateful to David and Neil for providing me with what was, in truth, a thrilling moment. And I'm grateful to my coworker Tanara for snapping a candid of the moment!

Hawaii Five Oh-Oh

Earl outside Steve McGarrett's original office in Honolulu, 2008

While watching the new Hawaii Five-O, it occured to me that the reimagined show's title has no internally consistent reason for existing. Allow me to explain. 

The original show was so named for the (fictional) state police department of the 50th state, Hawaii; hence, "Hawaii Five-O," shorthand within the universe of the show for the 50th and final state police department of the United States. Presumably in this universe, a show about the state police of Alaska (if indeed they have state police) would be named Alaska Four-9. While Hawaii does not, in reality, have a state police force, the show was so popular that in the real world, police officers of any geographic location came to be referred to as "five-o."

If the new show were a mere continuation of the old - that is, if the characters were new and the adventures of Steve McGarret and Danno and Kono and all the rest were acknowledged to exist in the past of the new show's fictional universe, the title would still make sense. The old show was Hawaii Five-O; the new show is Hawaii Five-O.

But the new show's characters all have the same names as characters in the old show. So there are new actors playing McGarrett, Kono, Danno and Chin Ho. Presumably in this universe there was never a television show called Hawaii Five-O; otherwise, the new Kono, McGarrett et al. would presumably be amazed that four people with the names of famous characters of the seventies were brought together to work in similar circumstances, namely serving as police officers in Hawaii.

"Say, McGarrett, isn't it weird that you and I and Kono and Chin Ho all have the same names as the guys from that old tv show?"

"Yeah, it's weird. But it's not THAT huge a coincidence, because the real Kono is a girl, and the dude on the show was a guy."

"Oh yeah, that's true."

Since this conversation never occurs, we can infer that the original Hawaii Five-O (the television show, that is) does not exist in the world of the new show. But even worse, there's no reference to a state police force in the new show; the characters just work on some kind of "task force." They can't call themselves "Hawaii Five-O" because there is no 50th state police force in the world of the show. But since the original TV series didn't exist in the world of this show, nor can they call themselves "five-o" colloquially, because the reason for the catchphrase - the original show - doesn't exist in the world of these new characters.

Of course you could argue that television show titles exist outside the narrative. But Hawaii Five-O's title was uniquely derived to highlight a crucial aspect of the fictional world it created: there exists a state police force in Hawaii, and these are their adventures.

I think we should get Steve McGarrett on this case immediately.

The Great Dilithium Crystal Heist

Dilithium crystals were invented by Star Trek's producers as a plot point for an early episode; there is a real-world molecule known as dilithium, but it doesn't power starships (so far as we know).

Apparently dilithium crystals are rare and valuable in the DC universe too, as seen in this early 70s issue of Justice League of America. Here Hawkman, in his role as a police officer of the world Thanagar, rushes to apprehend a thief of the legendary crystals. Oddly, he's stealing them from a museum. Perhaps they were the very crystals first seen in "The Naked Time," preserved by Thanagarian historians for posterity. Well, except this story takes place in the 1970s and the Star Trek episode occurs in the 23rd century. On the other hand, it was a time travel episode, so...

Great Aunt Blanche's Big Adventure

I picked up a new scanner for the express purpose of archiving Mom and Dad's collection of old slide photos. It works pretty well for most slides newer than late 70s vintage, but some of the older slides in their collection don't have the standard frame size of later 35 mm slides. I ran into this problem back when I took some slides in to London Drugs for scanning; their scanners returned photos with chopped off heads and all kinds of other problems. Their equipment just wasn't made to handle older slides.

My home scanner does a much better job, although sometimes I have to align the slides vertically instead of horizontally to ensure that the full image is captured. But with some slides, not even that will ensure the whole image is captured. For this slide of my Great Aunt Blanche - she's at the lower right - I had to scan the original slide twice at different angles, then combine the two images in Photoshop. At this rate, it's going to take me years to archive the hundreds of slides in Mom and Dad's collection, but I think it's a job worth doing - not only for the sake of family history, but because I find old photos inherently fascinating.

When I first glanced at the slide, I thought perhaps Great Aunt Blanche had attended an Apollo rocket launch, based on the tropical foliage and the late-sixties fashions. But as you can see, the slide itself is labelled "At Sun City - Jan." (Presumably January, though what year, I wonder...) Was Great Aunt Blanche taking in a concert in Sun City, South Africa? Or are the people on the hill watching some kind of sporting event?
Great Aunt Blanche died a few years ago at a very ripe old age, so I can't ask her. I'll have to ask my parents if they remember.

Laurie Blakeman on Conservation, Land Use and Oil Sands Development

Alberta Liberal MLA and Official Opposition Environment Critic Laurie Blakeman points out that the Alberta government is on the cusp of making some far-reaching decisions about how land in the Lower Athabasca region will be developed in the long term, and how much of that land - currently up to a mere twenty percent - will be conserved, leaving eighty percent open to development. The Alberta government will be holding open public stakeholder meetings at various communites in Alberta throughout September, and you can also leave your thoughts online. Visit http://www.landuse.alberta.ca/ for details.

Full disclosure: as a staff member of the Official Opposition, I did a small amount of work on this video (I took a couple of the still photos).

Edited to add: for some reason, embedding videos doesn't work very well with my blog setup, resulting in some of the image being cut off at the right. Until I solve this problem, you can also view the video here.

Thanks, Kevin

Earlier this month, former Alberta Liberal Leader Kevin Taft announced that he will not run for reelection. I was saddened but unsurprised by this news. Kevin has poured heart and soul into provincial politics for a decade; he's more than done his bit for democracy.

It seems a little odd to say that one could ever be a fan of a politician, so reviled is the breed. But I was and am a fan of Kevin Taft. I was a fan even before I started working for the Official Opposition.

I've never told anyone this, but I first became aware of Kevin because my friend Leslie edited Kevin's first book, Shredding the Public Interest. Because of my interest in Leslie's work, I read the book, and I was impressed by Kevin's clearheaded, nonpartisan analysis of the Klein government's unneccessary cuts to public services. A few months later, I happened across Kevin in person; he was giving an interview to a television crew at West Edmonton Mall. I almost worked up the nerve to introduce myself, but at the time I figured that Kevin was probably a busy man and didn't want to be bothered. I should have realized that politicians by their very nature actively pursue meeting new people! But the moment passed, and I went back to my job at Hole's, working on gardening books and writing speeches for Lois, who was either University of Alberta Chancellor or Lieutenant Governor of Alberta at the time - I don't remember the exact year I bumped into Kevin at WEM.

I've always defined myself as progressive, meaning that I believe in the importance of public services, I'm a strong believer in free speech and human rights, I don't mind paying reasonable taxes, and I think that instititions that serve the common good are vital: libraries, schools, public transit, public health care, museums, universities and so on. Kevin's writing and his statements in the Legislature and in the media earned my respect. At the same moment, I was writing speeches for one of the most impressive and progressive politicians in Alberta - Lois Hole. Of course her position was supposed to be apolitical, but she always encouraged me to push the limits of what was deemed acceptable speech from a Lieutenant Governor, and so I had the freedom to write about passions we shared: public libraries, public education, public health care and all the rest.

Even so, there was only so much Lois could or should say in a viceregal position. I began to feel that one day, sooner or later, I would have to take a more active role in provincial politics.

After Lois died in early 2005, I found myself somewhat adrift. I did work for her successor, Normie Kwong, for a few months, and I kept writing gardening material with Lois' son Jim, and I enjoyed both jobs. But it wasn't the same. So in late 2005, I applied for a job with the Official Opposition, starting in January 2006 as a writer, or more officially, a "Communications Coordinator." I first met Kevin officially at a Christmas-week meeting a few days before my official start date, and in retrospect I'm a little embarrassed by my behaviour; I think I sputtered a couple of fanboyish lines like "I'm a big fan!" and "I'm so honoured to be working with you!" Not exactly the cool, collected image I was hoping to present.

Working for any opposition party in Alberta is a tough gig, but Kevin's conviction and his desire to do the right thing for the people of Alberta always motivated me to do my best. As I got to know Kevin and his wife Jeanette, my conviction that he (and they) were in politics for the best of reasons grew firmer. I've never had a shred of doubt that Kevin wanted to be Premier for anything but the most altruistic reasons; Kevin saw the flaws in Tory governance, and wanted to fix things. You can't ask for more than that from a politician. He even married Sylvia and I in 2007, and he did a wonderful job.

Kevin will continue to serve as the MLA for Edmonton-Riverview until the next election is called. If my services are still needed, I'll be staying on to help Kevin's successor, Dr. David Swann - another good man of excellent character, full of compassion - fight the election. But I'm going to miss Kevin, and whatever he and his family choose to do afterward, I wish them all the best.

One Last Look at Lost: The New Man in Charge

Back in May, I wrote about my disappointment with the finale of Lost. My greatest complaint was the episode's failure to address some of the most intruiging mysteries surrounding the island and the Dharma Initiative. The show provided an emotional resolution, but I was looking for intellectual satisfaction too. In other words, I wanted some answers to the questions the show so gleefully raised over the course of six years.

Last night, Sylvia and I watched "The New Man in Charge," the twelve-minute epilogue included as a bonus feature on the Lost Blu-Ray set. Without giving too much away, the mini-sode chronicles a short vignette providing a glimpse into Hurley's new role as island overseer, with Benjamin Linus as his right-hand man.

As might be expected, the short didn't answer every unresolved question, but it did tackle a few minor mysteries; and more importantly, it gave one neglected character some resolution and the possibility of new adventures.

Deliberately, I think, the answers provided by the short were fairly predictable, the sort of thing viewers could have - and perhaps should have - come up with on our own. The episode almost reads like fan fiction, with its love of minutiae. In fact, the answers given are so logical and straightforward one should assume that the showrunners are taking a bit of a poke at the audience - admittedly with some justification. It's as if they're asking "Really - you needed us to answer that question for you?"

And yet there's clearly a method to their madness, because I find myself with somewhat warmer feelings toward a show that disappointed me in the end. "The New Man in Charge" by no means completely redeems the series' climax, but it does mitigate some of its sins, if only by reminding the audience that our own imagination is a perfectly valid a tool for interpreting and continuing stories crafted by others.

In effect, the producers are saying that the answers are out there - now go find them. Or create them. Perhaps, in the final analysis, that's the best way to end this show...by encouraging viewers to "get lost" in the best possible sense, by finding their own answers - answers quite possibly more satisfying and creative than any Lost's producers could have given. This epilogue encourages viewers to add to the show's mythology on their own.

I think that's a pretty good message from a medium that usually encourages passive absorption of culture, rather than active engagement. And now I've found a way to make peace with Lost after all.

The Financial Foibles of the Fantastic Four

Given the current recession and the state of most RRSPs these days, I can't help but take comfort from Mr. Fantastic's umbrage. Even a genius like Reed Richards can take a hit from the market, just like the rest of us.

Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, creators of the Fantastic Four, revolutionized comic superheroes by bringing their typically larger-than-life antics down to earth from time to time. On one page, the FF or Spider-Man might be fighting a galactic threat; on the next, worrying about their dysfunctional lives. I wonder how much Reed might have fetched for the Pogo Plane, the Fantasticar or the Ultimate Nullifier if he'd had access to ebay...

Earl's First Attempt at Cooking with the New Oven

Shower Slipup

The huge walk-in shower is one of the most appealling features of our new home, but I discovered today that safety in the bathroom remains a subject of vital importantce. While luxuriating in the spray and steam, I decided that since there was enough room to lie down in the shower, I might as well give it a try. Unfortunately my feet flew out from under me as I shifted position and I cracked my skull on the unforgiving porcelain tiles of the wall. One of my flailing arms swept every single beauty and hygiene product off the shelf and across the shower floor. The tremendous "clonk" of my impact shook the foundations of our new home, and Sylvia cried out in alarm.

"I'm okay," I shouted, even though I could still see animated bluebirds circling my head, merrily chirping away.

A few moments later, Sylvia offered her sympathies. "Poor baby," she said, "Did you land really hard on your bum?"

"Fortunately, I landed on my head," I quipped. Fortunate indeed - a thick skull has saved many a showering fool over the years. Next time, I'll stay on the rubber safety mat.

Breakfast Boondoggle

It's 10:59:30 am as you pull into the drive-thru lane at McDonald's. You're relieved that you've made it just before the breakfast menu cutoff, but your passenger has a hankering for a Big Mac and fries. If you use the remaining 30 seconds before 11:00 am to order breakfast items, then switch to your friend's lunch order at 11:00 am precisely, will McDonald's provide both breakfast and lunch?

I should try this sometime, with a very accurate timepiece.

Moving Heaven and Earl

Mom and Dad were kind enough to lend Sylvia and me their truck for our move, and Sean loaned us his brawn. As a result, we're mostly moved in, with much gratitude to my family!

Just a few dozen more boxes of books to go...

"I thought you said you'd see me in hell before you moved these boxes."

"Well, now I've seen hell. Contrary to popular belief, hell is not other people, and it's not the absence of god. It's boxes of books piled to the ceiling. Get an ebook reader for the love of all that's holy."

Now that we have a bigger place, Mom and Dad don't have to store my leftover campaign signs from the 2008 provincial election. Or my old Star Wars action figure...or my grade school report cards...

Boxing Myself In

Several months ago, Sylvia and I stored some of our stuff at my parents' place to make our first condo less cramped and more attractive to prospective buyers. Yesterday, Sean and I travelled to Leduc to borrow Mom and Dad's truck and to pick up this first load of stuff. Unfortunately, I managed to box myself into the basement. Planning ahead is important when you move. (Sean rescued me after taking this humiliating photo.)

Sean and I are moving more boxes today. Sylvia is so excited that she's figuratively bouncing off the walls. Fun!

First Glimpse at Our New Home

Yesterday Sylvia and I took possession of our new condo! Thanks to Sylvia's excellent money management and our realtor's amazing negotiating skills, we have a beautiful new home with all the room I'll ever need for all my books.

I'd like to reiterate how pleased we are with Patrick Fields, our realtor. He was a model of professionalism and kindness throughout the entire process, and Sylvia and I have no hesitation about recommending his services to anyone looking to buy or sell a new home. He helped make an inherently stressful experience much more pleasant.

Of course, we still have to move our stuff, which will involve lugging around hundreds of heavy, book-filled boxes. This time, though, I thought ahead and borrowed a dolly, which should make the job a lot easier. Photos to come!

Garth's Teeth

I've always been fascinated by the relish with which my friend Jeff tells the story of Garth's Teeth. He's been telling it since I met him back in 1987 or 88, back in the days of the U of A Star Trek Club. Last year, when Sylvia and I visited Jeff and Susan in BC, I finally captured the story on video for posterity. I've also been experimenting with simple video editing, so this version of the story is embellished with some silly special effects.

Fox and the Boxes

Jeff Shyluk writes, "I noticed that your Earl Default Character looked to me an awful lot like David Duchovny. I took the liberty of adding an Armani suit in PShop so you can see what I mean." So if I wore an Armani suit, would I look like David Duchovny? Maybe after I haul many, many, many boxes...

Lister Hall and Rutherford Library circa 1989-1990

Posting that last video evoked some feelings of nostalgia, so here's another glimpse into my past at Lister Hall and the University of Alberta. One day Jeff Pitts came by for a visit and we went to the Ruthorford Library to do some research. Since those days, a new residence tower has grown at Lister and I'm sure the terminal I'm typing on in the video below has been replaced with something much more modern. Time marches on little cat feet...

A few months ago I managed to transfer all of my old home movies from Super 8 mm film, 8 mm tape, VHS and Beta to DVD. A fraction of that is available on my hard drive as easily-editable digital files. My long-term goal is to sort everything chronologically and clean it up as best I can, perhaps using some of the footage to create a few themed shorts. Why? I'm not sure. The images and sounds I captured will be of little interest to historians, and I will have no descendants that might want a family history. And yet I feel compelled to preserve these captured photons and wisps of other times. Perhaps, as postulated in more than one science fiction story, the people of the future will use these archives to rebuild a virtual Earl for purposes unknowable to us primitives, and my friends and I will live again.