Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Spettacolo Pomeridiano: Iperborea

The invitation came from the cathode crier: the Shrine of the IV Elements was awaiting. Eager anticipation began to mount. If memory serves, the duo reached the Echelon facility some time after the noonday sun.
A sigh of relief -- the chain mail curtains at the portal were raised this time, giving access to the crimson-carpeted antechamber. The duo pressed onward through the low light, the smell of oils and burnt grain wafting about, when they found themselves in the Main Vault before the shrine.
They reverently settled to the ground as images and sound came to manifest before them:
• Animated spinning rings spitting out a clickety-clack tattoo of hi-hat and clav.
• The crackle of fiery aurorae in static air above blistering sands and ice-caked altars -- elementals simultaneous.
• A recitation of quests of yore, replete with beasts, villains, sorcery and... victory.

Victory is the inspiration the duo take with themselves.
Leaving the shrine and portal, they look back over their shoulders -- there, like Petra, the stony face of Iperborea yawns with silent benediction.
Ahead, the sun, the asphalt, and the satellites of Plymouth.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Self-Promotional Sampler Platter: Code PNGN

In a world where...

...Suburban husbands can proudly be Atlas for a day...

...Celebrities will go as far as to throttle primates just to score cheap political points...

...Comic book characters play an active role in the Global War on Terror...

...Postmodernism is used as a means to end postmodernism itself...

...Vegans and hipsters are the true missing links in the Pageant of Man...

...Ship surgeons suffering from Role Strain pogo in frustration to find a suitable ego state before their fifteenth minute is up...

...Sport presenters provide colour commentary on bio-terror hostage rescue simulations...

...Fonzie, the Sopranos and Emperor Commodus all vie for power within the same space-time continuum...

...Choosers cannot be beggars...

...Eddie Munster and Charles Manson battle wits over Hair Issues... and Heir Issues...

...Third World meets First, with surreal results...

...Angry snappers frown at the Cheapening of the Tudors...

...Insectoid kaiju remind mankind of the menace of nuclear destruction...

...you will find The Pungeoning.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Thursday, April 03, 2008

In the Trenches at Sea: The Crucible of Character

“The ship must sail on... regardless of who the captain is, regardless of who the admiral is...”

The good ship Reverend Resbo never did sail very smoothly -- from its rocky beginnings to its eventual loss at sea some twenty-seven years later. Young Merbos had volunteered purely by happenstance: An overheard phone call at The Gristle by a crewman pleading for manpower. The ensuing voyages were a shakedown more for the man than the ship: Find your sea legs, get the tasks done, get from A to B.
It was changes in the Admiralty that led not to mutiny, but desertion by 90% of the crew. The Resbo’s remaining days were helmed by a procession of impotent captains, Queeg-like but without the experience. Needless to say, the lingering skeleton crew had clung to the gunwales, the seas growing fiercer with each successive voyage.
What does a crew learn? Not merely under one unstable captain, but never having experienced an able and competent captain at all -- what does a crew learn?
The ship must sail on... regardless of who the captain is, regardless of who the admiral is.

At the risk of charges of insubordination, Merbos could not quite bite his tongue in the face of:
• Captain Gladhand McSandbag, whose M.O. was ‘Divide & Conquer’ -- pitting the crew against each other so he could swoop down as saviour -- all whilst the ship cruised in circles.
• Captain Connor MacLeod, when not AWOL would brandish cutlery as recompense for his lack of leadership.
• Capitaine Bellâtre, who when called to account for excessive tea times and quaintwork, threatened to sabotage his own ship.
• Captain Jethrine -- smiley-psychotic who bragged of cheating at the Academy. Also conspired to keelhaul his first mate, just to get his hands on his paltry commission.
• All admirals who promoted and excused these rate grabbing dinQs (while withholding BCDs), along with their own damage to morale, reputation and seaworthiness.

It’s a wonder that the Resbo stayed afloat long enough to reach the twenty-first century. But it did. Merbos gives hearty thanks to his fellow deck hands who stuck to their oath: The Olde Salt, Top Shelf Charly, Mairobin, The Walt-Man and Lieutenant Gergg. Bravo Zulu.
Every day was a long day but no matter how endless or harsh, one must view it as accomplishment, whether by man, by crew, by vessel, or by navy. Even if one is bailing water, figuratively or literally.
At the end of a given day the scant crew of the Resbo would retire to the Nether Quarters -- a makeshift lounge only accessible via the ship’s photolab. There, Lt. Gergg would provide some much needed ‘attitude adjustment’ for all. At least by laughing off the insanities of the day, the crew could fortify themselves for whatever nuttiness lay on the horizon.


EPILOGUE: All of the original crew, and finally Merbos, did eventually jump ship, as one must when fatal leaks and other Benny Suggs go unacknowledged by brass. The Resbo continued to limp along with clueless crews, captains in name only, and admirals who abandoned them to the wind. She was lost at sea about a year later.
If no one remembers the indignities of the Reverend Resbo, may they remember her lessons.