A Class Opening Act

MINOR SPOILERS for "Kids These Days" and "Beta Test," the first two episodes of Star Trek: Starfleet Academy

The latest adventure in the Star Trek saga brings us down to Earth--quite literally, as this series is set at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco--but also metaphorically, because, judging by the first two episodes, this series will be more grounded than Star Trek: Discovery or Star Trek: Picard, in which the fate of worlds and even universes was at stake. This time around, the adventures are about rebuilding, reconnecting, and discovering potential on voyages not just through space, but through life and all its ups and downs. 

As a spinoff of later seasons of Star Trek: Discovery, this new show's premise unfolds from the near-destruction of the United Federation of Planets, the long-standing setting for all the Star Trek series and movies, and the reconstruction necessary after its near-fall. The first episode of the series introduces us to some of the people impacted by the Federation's near-collapse and how they come together at the renewed Starfleet Academy, now reconstituted in San Francisco for the first time in over a century. 

The cast is led by Holly Hunter, who's really superb here as Academy Chancellor and former Starfleet captain Nahla Ake. Hunter owns every scene she's in with a sincere, empathetic performance edged with both tragedy and playfulness. Tig Notaro and Robert Picardo are back and as lovable as ever as their original characters Jett Reno, crabby time-tossed engineer from the 23rd century, and the Emergency Medical Hologram, whose program is still functioning almost 1,000 years since it was first initiated. 

Paul Giamatti appears only in the first episode, but he's wonderfully over the top as Nus Braka, interstellar thief and murderer, half Klingon and half Tellarite for extra boorishness. Some genius on the makeup or hair styling team gave Giamatti's character a haircut that features a completed game of Xs and Os on the side of his skull, a ludicrous detail that tickles me to no end. It's not explained, which is perfect. I hope no characters ever take note of it. 

Of course, the students are the main focus of this series, and their actors all shine in different ways. As I approach my 60s I'll admit to finding some of their antics a little annoying, but then I remember they're young--when I was surely even more exasperating. Sandro Rosta as Caleb Mir has to do most of the heavy lifting among the student characters; he's the "bad boy" of the show, a child torn from his mother by Holly Hunter's Nahla Ake (naturally). Rosta has to believably balance his understandable resentment for Ake while still being sympathetic and showing the ability to grow past his pain and impetuousness. Rosta, I think, pulls it off, and the scenes between Rosta and Hunter are a joy to watch. 

Even the bridge officers on the USS Athena--more on that later--already feel more real and interesting to me than the poor, overlooked bridge crew of the Discovery, even though the Athena crew appear only in the pilot and Discovery's secondary characters had over 50 episodes to grow--but didn't. 

The show's storytelling across its first two episodes is economical and tight; the plots are focused and logical, and the dialogue generally decent--though there are times when 21st century slang takes us out of the show, though the flaw is much less egregious here than it was in Star Trek: Section 31. The stakes are grounded but still engaging: Caleb wants to find his mother, Ake wants to help him, the Federation wants to rebuild. There's a good balance between high--but not ludicrous--political stakes and very real, very human issues. We see a little of this in most of the other student characters too, stories that I imagine will be fleshed out over the course of the series' run. 

Star Trek's production design continues to get better with each succeeding series, but the crew really did a spectacular job here. They've managed to change the Federation's technology and style just enough that it still looks familiar to fans of the older shows while also reflecting its far-future 32nd century setting. 

The show's hero ship this time around is the USS Athena, a starship that also doubles as Starfleet Academy's main building. While docked at the Academy, the Athena functions like any other academic centre, full of classrooms and laboratories. But when field trips are called for, the Athena heads up to Earth orbit and docks with the warp engines stored there. It's a brilliant concept, well executed. 

Even the music is more experimental and interesting than we usually find in Star Trek television (the films are another matter; most of them have superb scores). There's a fight scene in the first episode that's really effectively scored, and a lovely rearrangement of a 1960s pop hit that creates a beautifully tender and nostalgic moment near the end of that episode. 

All these elements combine to create a show that, to my great surprise and delight, captures Star Trek's legendary feeling of hope and optimism and faith in humanity's ability to find the best in ourselves and push through adversity. In these dark times, that's a precious gift. 

 

25,000 Films

 

As of today, I have seen 25,000 films. The 25,000th was D.W. Griffith's 1910 one-reeler, The Usurer. 

Last year, Letterboxd separated feature films from shorts. So, technically, 25,000 when shorts are included...

...but only 10, 640 if we're talking about feature length movies. Still not bad. 

And here are the shorts. 

Somewhere Only We Know, Everybody's Changing

 

I stumbled across Keane last year--late to the party as always when it comes to music--and I fell in love with two tracks: "Somewhere Only We Know" and "Everybody's Changing." 

"Everybody's Changing" really resonated with me last year, and that resonance consists. I get the sense that Keane intended the song to be a reflection about how young groups of friends tend to drift apart with age, but in 2025 and 2026, I interpret them in a different way: as a person dying slowly without understanding what's happening. My interpretation appears after each verse. 

You say, you wander your own land
But when I think about it, I don't see how you can 

(The singer doesn't understand what a loved one is trying to tell him) 

You're aching, you're breaking
And I can see the pain in your eyes
Says Everybody's Changing, and I don't know why

(The singer knows their visitor is upset and she doesn't understand why) 

So little time
Try to understand that I'm
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game
I try to stay awake and remember my name
But Everybody's Changing, and I don't feel the same

(The singer rallies and gets some limited understanding back, fighting for her life and mind) 

You're gone from here
Soon you will disappear, fading into beautiful light
'Cause Everybody's Changing, and I don't feel right

(The singer thinks he's singing about someone leaving and not caring about him, but it's really what's about to happen to him. My favourite verse.) 

So little time
Try to understand that I'm
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game
I try to stay awake and remember my name
But Everybody's Changing, and I don't feel the same

(She rallies again) 

So little time
Try to understand that I'm
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game
I try to stay awake and remember my name
But Everybody's Changing, and I don't feel the same
Oh, Everybody's Changing, and I don't feel the same

(A final rally, and he's gone) 

It's a sad, lovely, mournful song, either way you look at it. 

Here's "Somewhere Only We Know," which makes me think of Leaf Rapids. 

Director Woods

A couple of years ago, I used HeroForge to construct this alternate universe version of myself as a guest character for a Villains & Vigilantes game Jeff, and then Connor, were running. On a whim, I asked Gemini to translate this 3D rendering into a photograph: 

Obviously this image has plenty of flaws, but I'm still impressed by how far this technology has come in just a couple of years. 

Ballerino

 

From 3D HeroForge render to sorta photorealistic Gemini image. 

Ice Cap Run

"Why are there so many ice caps?" 
 

Let the Mystery Be

I first heard Iris DeMent's "Let the Mystery Be" when it came up as the new opening theme for season two of The Leftovers. The song has been on my mind lately as part of my recent preoccupation with death and aging. Given the subject matter--what happens after we die--Iris' lyrics are refreshingly nonjudgmental and upbeat. Here's the chorus: 

Everybody is wonderin' what and where they all came from
Everybody is worryin' about where they're gonna go when the whole thing's done
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me
Think I'll just let the mystery be

Each verse that follows quickly describes one of the various human concepts of what an afterlife might be like. My favourite is the last: 

Some say they're goin' to a place called Glory and I ain't sayin' it ain't a fact
But I've heard that I'm on the road to purgatory and I don't like the sounds of that
 'Cause I believe in love and I live my life accordingly
I choose to let the mystery be

The song sometimes makes me tear up, particularly at that final verse. I love her agency, her choice, and her acceptance of other ways of thinking about philosophy and religion. 

Manitoba Woods and the Jungle of Fear

"Why did it have to be snakes?" Manitoba Woods asked himself as the blood froze in his veins. Well, where else was it going to freeze? In his bones? His camera? No. His blood was still inside his body; ergo, it must freeze, if freeze it will, within his veins. And arteries. And capillaries. And his heart. That probably wouldn't be good. 

While all this was running through his mind, the snake leapt forward and sank its venomous fangs into Manitoba Woods' left forearm. 

"Oh, shit, I wasn't paying attention!" he moaned as he slumped into unconsciousness, falling gently to the soft forest floor. 

NEXT: Manitoba Woods and the Skeleton of Foolishness
 

The Year Is Young

 

Papers, Please

"I'll need to see your licence and registration." 

 

Farewell to Aunt Marjorie

We just heard from our cousin Dianne that her mother, my Aunt Marjorie Jones, passed away today. She was the last Etsell sister, at far left, beside Mom. As far as I know, the unveiling of the cairn at Salt Lake, on the former property of our grandparents, was the last time all four sisters were together in the same place. I'm glad Sean and Dad and I were there for it. 

Three sisters gone in the space of less than half a year. Time can be cruel. 

Rest in peace, Aunt Marjorie, with your sisters and Uncle Arnold. 


 

Letterboxd List Progress

Four lists completed (for now) with three less than five films each to go and one with only 20 to go. 

Using these lists, I've discovered dozens of great films I might not have experienced without their guidance. On the flip side, there are some pretty terrible movies on the more popular lists, like the box office top 100 and the IMDB top 250. But you have to take the good with the bad. 
 

The Wheel of the Time Is Coming Soon

One day soon I will mount the USS Encounter ship's wheel on one of my walls. Jeff and Susan gave this to me decades ago, and it's one of my prized possessions. It WILL go up on a wall, and that day is approaching. 

For now, here it is in a photo from sometime in the mid-90s with a Gemini-altered background. 
 

Someone Set Me Up the Bomb

You have no chance to survive, make your time! 
 

Back in Theatres: Movies I watched in 2025

 

I needed escape in 2025, and the movies delivered. The vast majority of the films I watched in 2025 were shorts, so don't be alarmed by that huge number on the left; only 538 of the 3,363 were feature-length films (one hour or longer). 

Here are some of my favourite feature-length films of the year. 

For the first time since December 2019, I went back to theatres this year. I chose times designed to reduce exposure to COVID-19, and I'm happy to say the strategy worked; neither Sylvia nor I fell ill. 

Anyone who knows me can't be surprised that James Gunn's Superman was the film that brought me back to the theatre experience. I simply couldn't miss seeing the latest iteration of my favourite fictional character on the big screen. Sylvia, sport that she is, came along with me, and while I'm sure she didn't enjoy it as much as I did, she did like the film, which I think of as a return to form after Zack Snyder's bleak, colourless, cynical interpretation in Man of Steel and its follow-up films. 

The Fantastic Four are my favourite Marvel characters (alongside Spider-Man), so nor could I resist seeing their first official MCU film, Fantastic Four: First Steps. I thought it was a lovely throwback to the spirit of the original comics from the 1960s, with rich characterization for all four leads, amazing production design, and a self-contained, thrilling adventure harkening back to some of the best of the Lee/Kirby comic run. Sylvia skipped this one, and I don't blame her; I don't think she would have gotten much out of it. 

Finally, I won tickets from Letterboxd to see The Long Walk, which adapts one of Stephen King's earliest and most chilling novels. Sylvia came along with me, and we were both impressed by the film's stark production, creating a dystopian near-future (or perhaps recent alternate past) of a fallen United States and the fascist measures it takes to entertain and distract its citizens. Mark Hamill is incredible in this as the tyrant who organizes the titular long walk, but it's the young men competing in the event who really steal the show. The film is raw, disconcerting, unforgiving, and doesn't leave the audience with any means of escaping its bleak, hopeless message. 

My favourite film of the year, though, has to be Yorgos Lanthimos' latest surreal masterpiece, Bugonia. Jesse Plemons and Emma Stone are utterly captivating in this tale of desperate paranoia, and that's all I'll say for fear of spoiling the film's tremendous impact. It really is worth seeing. 

With that, here are some screenshots from my year in film as compiled by Letterboxd: 

At this rate, it's going to take me a long time to finish my watchlist...

See you at the movies! 

Quality over Quantity in a Time of Troubles: Books I Read in 2025

At last, 2025 is over. I'd hoped to surpass 100 books this year, but other things became more important. 

In 2025, I read

• 67 works of fiction and 17 works of non-fiction
• 39 science fiction novels, 17 mainstream novels, six Star Trek media tie-ins, and five fantasy novels
• 26 books by women and 58 books by men
• 42 books from the 2020s, 17 from the 2010s, nine from the 2000s, five from the 1990s, four from the 1980s, two from the 1970s, four from the 1960s, and one from the 1950s

COMMENTARY AND ANALYSIS

For the first time in a long time, only a couple of books this year were re-reads for me. This wasn't an intentional choice, but in retrospect it seems to have left me open to some wonderful discoveries. Here are my favourite reads of the year, plus a disappointment or two: 

I Who Have Never Known Men, by Jacqueline Harpman. 39 women and a girl are locked in an underground cage for years, then suddenly released to emerge to an emptied world, barren and inhospitable. Whatever calamity befell the world is left a mystery. A compelling rumination on the struggles of womanhood in hostile spaces, and a bleak commentary on human empathy--or the lack of it. 

Titan, by Stephen Baxter. I've never been Baxter's biggest fan, but 2025 was the right year for me to finally finish his so-called "NASA trilogy." The book's political climate eerily mirrors the troubles we're facing today, and as the world turns inward, NASA has one more shot to perform some pioneering science and exploration--a do or die, one-way trip to Saturn's largest moon, Titan. The technical details of the mission are fascinating, especially set against the frightening backdrop of an American government sliding into theocratic fascism. No parallels to 2025 in this book from 1997! Even more compelling are the battle for survival on Titan itself and the speculative leaps made by novel's end. 

A Short Stay in Hell, by Steven L. Peck. So it turns out that when we die, unless we follow Zoroastrianism (the one true faith; who knew?) we go to hell. Hell is a library that contains every book that fits onto 410 pages, and if you find the one book that tells your life story--without any spelling errors, typos, or grammatical errors--you're free to leave. Unfortunately, every letter, number, and punctuation mark is randomly generated, which means that the vast, vast majority of the trillions and trillions and trillions of books in Hell is garbage. Your book exists, but the time required to find it would take longer than the age of our universe. Much longer. There's no torture in hell, and its residents are supplied with good food and comfortable quarters. But there's no entertainment other than chatting or having sex, and no one gets sick. Of course, people can hurt and even kill each other, but you always wake up fully healed. Practically speaking, you're trapped in an eternity of boredom. This book terrified me. 

James, by Percival Everett. A retelling of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from the perspective of Jim, the escaped slave befriended by Huck in Mark Twain's novel. Offers excellent perspective on the Black experience in white spaces--this is a rich novel, an angry novel, uncompromising in its critique of the world we've built. 

Julia, by Sandra Newman. George Orwell's 1984 seen through the eyes of Julia, Winston Smith's lover. It's just as bleak and nauseating as Orwell's original story, given more dimension thanks to its new perspective. We even get to see the fall of Oceania, an event foreshadowed by 1984's afterword. Spoiler: the new regime may or may not be an improvement on the old regime. 

Exordia, by Seth Dickinson. The first couple of chapters led me to believe this novel was going to be comic. I was wildly wrong. Dickinson's story of alien invasion is one of the scariest, most visceral, and most exciting examples of the trope in years. A wonderful cast of characters, human and alien, take us on a thrilling rollercoaster ride. It's smart, fun, terrifying, and satisfying. 

The Bridges of Madison County, by Robert James Waller. This is one of several books I read from Mom's collection after her passing. I wasn't expecting to enjoy this novel as much as I did, but I admit to tearing up by the end. A beautiful love story that captures the feeling of those special moments in time we know must be brief, but stay with us forever. 

The Compound, by Aisling Rawle. 20 (quickly 19) young men and women play out a dystopian version of Big Brother against the backdrop of the world we might live in in just a few years--a catastrophically warming world with constant wildfires and resource shortages, civilization finally beginning to play the price of our greed and ignorance. The Compound is a thoughtful critique of consumerism, the male gaze, and violence--but it offers a thread of hope in its tale of resilience and reconciliation. Or, if not hope--then at least some grace. 

The Rose Field, by Philip Pullman. I was enjoying the last of Pullman's Lyra Silvertongue novels until about three-quarters of the way through, when Pullman seems to lose focus and direction. The big action setpiece feels like it's been inspired by a video game or a poorly-run Dungeons & Dragons campaign, and the ending, well...I think the only word is anticlimactic. Although maybe ironic also fits, since a search to recapture Lyra's imagination seems to end in a rote critique of runaway progress--a topic handled with far more dexterity by The Compound, above. 

Prelude to Space, by Arthur C. Clarke. Clarke chose the perfect title for this one; it really is a prelude to the big space adventures we never get to see. Instead, Clarke covers the technical and bureaucratic challenges of getting men (of course men) into orbit. I found it interesting, but most readers will consider this very, very dry. Which it is. 

I'm Thinking of Ending Things, Foe, and We Spread, by Iain Reid. Nothing is what it seems in Reid's work, and I love that. All three novels are creepy, atmospheric, heartbreaking, mysterious, and best left unspoiled. I ached deeply for all his poor doomed protagonists, trapped in worlds they never made. 

Weird Medieval Guys, by Olivia Swarthout. Gorgeously designed, brilliantly illustrated, and hilarious, a balm for my battered nerves this year, a great gift from Leslie. 

The Gone World and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Tom Sweterlitsch. I wish this guy would write more novels! Sweterlitsch combines deeply sympathetic characters with high-concept speculative fiction settings and challenges in a way that's unlike any other writer. 

And finally, this year I read the seven existing novels in Matt Dinniman's Dungeon Crawler Carl series. Not only are they great fun, especially for anyone who's ever played a tabletop role playing game, the bad puns, crass humour, bloodthirsty violence, and existential dread are tempered by a truly empathetic and humanistic outlook; Carl, our protagonist, never gives in to despair or hate despite the cruelty of the alien invaders who have turned Earth into the latest of their sadistic interstellar reality show playgrounds, wiping out almost all life on the planet. 

MONTH-BY-MONTH

January: 11

The Dead Fathers Club (Matt Haig, 2006)
The Possession of Mr Cave (Matt Haig, 2008)
Notes on a Nervous Planet (Matt Haig, 2018)
Julia (Sandra Newman, 2023) 
How to be Perfect (Michael Schur, 2022) 
Tower of Glass (Robert Silverberg, 1970) 
Light Raid (Connie Willis and Cynthia Felice, 1989) 
Take a Look at the Five and Ten (Connie Willis, 2020) 
Seasons of Light and Darkness (Michael A. Martin, 2014) 
Golden State (Ben H. Winters, 2019) 
Terra Incognita (Connie Willis, 2018) 

February: 10
Some Desperate Glory (Emily Tesh, 2023) 
The Art of Mike Grell Volume 1 (Mike Grell, Tom Monarch, and Jeff Messer, 2025) 
Water Witch (Connie Willis and Cynthia Felice, 1982) 
The Fall Risk (Abby Jiminez, 2025) 
Promised Land (Connie Willis and Cynthia Felice, 1996) 
The Armageddon Engine (James Swallow, 2024) 
The You You Are: A Spiritual Biography of You (Ricken Lazlo Hale, 2022) 
Vulcan’s Soul Book I: Exodus (Josepha Sherman and Susan Shwartz, 2004) 
I Who Have Never Known Men (Jacqueline Harpman, 1995) 
Shadow Play (James Swallow, 2024)

March
The Whole Man (John Brunner, 1967) 
Titan (Stephen Baxter, 1997) 
The Godwhale (T.J. Bass, 1974) 
Star Trek: Lost to Eternity (Greg Cox, 2024)

April
American Housewife (Anita Abriel, 2025) 
Exordia (Seth Dickinson, 2023) 
Dungeon Crawler Carl (Matt Dinniman, 2020) 
Carl’s Doomsday Scenario (Matt Dinniman, 2021) 
The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook (Matt Dinniman, 2021) 
The Gate of the Feral Gods (Matt Dinniman, 2021) 

May
The Butcher’s Masquerade (Matt Dinniman, 2022)  
Thirteen Days: A Memoir of the Cuban Missile Crisis (Robert F. Kennedy, 1969) 

June
The Eye of the Bedlam Bride (Matt Dinniman, 2023)
George Perez: Storyteller (Christopher Lawrence, 2006)
This Inevitable Ruin (Matt Dinniman, 2024) 

July
Never Flinch (Stephen King, 2025) 
James (Percival Everett, 2024) 
The Enemy Within (Kristine Kathryn Rusch, 2014) 
Rapport: Friendship, Solidarity, Communion, Empathy (Martha Wells, 2025)
White Eagle Speaks: Reflections of Lives and Passing Thoughts (Leonard Carriere, 2000) 
Prairie Light (Courtney Milne, 1985) 
Keith Langergraber: Theatre of the Exploding Sun (Liz Wylie, 2013) 
Shadow of the Machine (Scott Harrison, 2015) 
The More Things Change (Scott Pearson, 2014) 
Christmas with Norman Rockwell (John Kirk, 1990) 
The Professionals (Keith Langergraber, 2016) 
The Adventure of the Demonic Ox (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2025) 

August
Vulcan’s Soul Book II: Exiles (Josepha Sherman and Susan Shwartz, 2006) 
The Making of The African Queen, or How I Went to Africa with Bogart, Bacall, and Huston and Almost Lost My Mind (Katherine Hepburn, 1987) 
The Bridges of Madison County (Robert James Waller, 1992) 
The End of the World as We Know It (Christopher Golden, 2025) 
A Short Stay in Hell (Steven L. Peck, 2012) 
When the Moon Hits Your Eye (John Scalzi, 2025) 

September
I Hope This Finds You Well (Natalie Sue, 2024) 
The Gone World (Tom Sweterlitsch, 2018) 
Tomorrow and Tomorrow (Tom Sweterlitsch, 2014) 
Dominion (C.J. Sansom, 2012) 
Not Quite by the Book (Julie Hatcher, 2025) 
The Shattered Peace (John Scalzi, 2025) 
The Art of Fantastic Four (John Lind, 2025)
A New History of the Future in 100 Objects: A Fiction (Adrian Hon, 2020) 

October
3 Days, 9 Months, 27 Years (John Scalzi, 2025) 
The Intergalactic Interloper (Delas Heras, 2020) 
Best of All Worlds (Kenneth Oppel, 2025) 
Back to the Future: A Visual History (Michael Klastorin, Randal Atamaniuk, 2015) 
Weird Medieval Guys (Olivia Swarthout, 2023) 
Final Orbit (Chris Hadfield, 2025) 
Silver Screen Fiend (Patton Oswalt, 2015) 
I’m Thinking of Ending Things (Iain Reid, 2016) 
Foe (Iain Reid, 2018) 
We Spread (Iain Reid, 2022) 

November
Prelude to Space (Arthur C. Clarke, 1951) 
Assassins from Tomorrow (Peter Heath, 1967) 
The Productions of Time (John Brunner, 1967) 
The Collected Essex County (Jeff Lemire, 2009) 
The Rose Field (Philip Pullman, 2025) 

December
Testimony of Mute Things (Lois McMaster Bujold, 2025) 
The Compound (Aisling Rawle, 2025) 
Ten Thousand Light Years from Okay (Tracy Dobmeier and Wendy Katzman, 2025) 
The Witch Doesn’t Burn in This One (Amanda Lovelace, 2018)
The Mermaid’s Voice Returns in This One (Amanda Lovelace, 2019) 
Machines Like Me (Ian McEwan, 2025) 
Gold Dust (Catherine Asaro, 2025) 

And so ends 2025. Check out Bruce's list, and now you can see what Leslie was reading, listening to, and experiencing in 2025. 

I Didn't See It Coming

One more day left in this all-around terrible year. 
 

A Manhattan Gorilla at Pisew Falls

Gorilla and canoe are not to scale. 
 

Bush League

In Villains and Vigilantes, you create characters by assigning a certain number of character points to your primary attributes (strength, endurance, agility, and so on) and by rolling on a series of tables to randomly determine your age, background, species (!), sex, super powers, and weaknesses. Then you're given some flexibility to change the results around a bit to create a hero that fits a certain theme. 

For the next V&V campaign I'll be participating in, I've created Bush League. Fresh out of high school, Preston Spender is a tall, strong, good-hearted kid; he's a natural athlete and enjoys spending time as a volunteer for  local search and rescue services. But then, one day, everything changed...(I don't know how Preston got super-powers; that will be revealed by the game master). 

Preston rolled the following powers and weaknesses: 

Experience levels (gives him an edge in succeeding at certain tasks) 
Heightened endurance
Armor
Willpower: pain resistance (difficult to knock unconscious) 
Physical ability: inertia (can't be knocked backward, so I made him a catcher on his high school team) 
Special weapon: baseball bat
Prejudice (many of his peers think he's a dumb jock)
Poverty 

The combination of my random dice rolls have resulted, I think, in a potentially interesting and capable hero. Maybe he's bush league for now, but he's just getting started; the big leagues might not be far off. 

 

The Annual Holiday Overeating Coma

Actually taken a few days before the holidays, but the sentiment holds. I don't remember Gemini being involved in this image, but there's the watermark in the corner . . . must have used it to add the Zs. 
 

Boxing Day 2025

 

Christmas 2025

Lego Advent Calendar Haiku 2025 Day 24

BB-8's beeps
Announce Santa's arrival 
Ice patronus glares
 

Lego Advent Calendar Haiku 2025 Day 23

Bitter mandrake frowns
For Christmas, garbage and junk
Roots of his evil
 

Lego Advent Calendar Haiku 2025 Day 22

Cedric Diggory
Needed a medical droid
Mournful train whistles