Books, books --

Two I just picked up. One, is Nothing is Sacred by Lewis Black. Warms the lil cockles of my heart to see he is a peer of mine, raised in the fifties, reached adulthood in the sixties, and Lo, Looky here. Thinks like 90% of the other peery cowards out there who do not open their face or twiddle their voice. Silent majority I do believe comes in more colors than a Crayon 64 jumbo. or even 128? Did they ever get to 256? Anyhoo, I think they killed that chicken by Internet. Those who drool over new colors and made them an art form now dance on E-bay or Facebook, which by the way I refuse. Laugh my head off at the Martin Sheen commercial about how he's an alien and how our ipods, (don't got one) interface with t.v. through our pc's..yum yum rendering our collective brains to mush. Anyway. Black, if you can envision him talking to you, via his book and put in the pauses and emphasis in your mind's eye, Good stuff. Yummy.

Also 'nuther book by a chap by the name of Joe Hill. His lil sleeper is called Heart Shaped Box. Since I am a follower of his dad, I was laying in wait for this lil morsel, and he did not disappoint. A bit puerile, hey he's a kid, already ---but the chops are there, the humor and the weird juxposition of tender sweetness wielded with a razor sharp axe. He does write horror. And I hear his dad's voice, but tempered a bit by his mom's eye for the quirky undertones within a tale of 'aw shucks we are just normal, people'. Umm, it's in the genes i THINK and I'm just gonna follow this lil guy. Saw a picture of him in his book back and dang if he doesn't look like ol Steve too!!! Whoo hoo! Do I smell a dynasty here?

Read it if you like a rough ride through the macabre. It's like acid rock. Louder, flashier, harder, meaner, Daddy's more rockn'roll. but Joe after all, with the years under his belt is gonna give his pop a run for his money I think.

Mrs. Great Bird Of The Galaxy

Just a short tip of my hat to my past, a really gracious and kind lady Majel Barrett Roddenberry recently passed on. For those who remember, a moment. For those who don't, well, your loss.

Well the groundhog saw his shadow --

But I don't care. My crocus's is coming up. They are in a sheltered corner of the house so, they have a chance if we don't get any more below zero weather. Spring will come and with all the other doom and gloom predictions, which have gone on since the beginning of time --- it does a heart good. The basement is more or less done now, counters to be put in, doors hung, knobs and pieces and whatnot. Good. Soon or later all this nonsense will be gone and I can seek and find my cat. I hope to get a siamese or a siamese cross that has the points. (and voice). Being hearing impaired, I can tolerate a yappy yowler. I will go to the rescue place.

They have been putting slides of pieces of meteorite bits under microscopes and taking pictures. Beautiful stuff! The above illustration happens to be a many many micro blowups of CANCER! Shucks, looks like a mountain scene with a cabin. Goes to show, we often don't know what anything really looks like, and when we do, it sometimes is a surprise.

Know what I miss? Happy days of roaming around as a kid, playing with and turning over rocks. That does sometimes gives you a surprise too. Now if you are my age and sprawl in the dirt, people think you're sick and call and ambulance.